Dragon Age: Origins (The City Elf Story)
by Slim Dim
Summary: Killean was born in the Alienage, it's all she has known and she longs for adventure, but seems destined to settle down with her betrothed. When the Arl's Son disrupts her wedding day she is thrown into an adventure that will change her, and all of Freldan forever. A reasonably faithful adaptation of the City Elf origin story. May be expanded into the full game at some pointd
1. ONE: Origin

"And so is the Golden City blackened

With each step you take in my Hall.

Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.

You have brought Sin to Heaven

And doom upon all the world."

~Canticle of Threnodies 8:13

ONE: Origin

The fire cast harsh shadows across the deep roads as he walked toward the great door, it had all come to pass, the Blight had been stopped and peace restored to Fereldan, the Grey Wardens had returned and remained vigilant. He could have wept at the cost of it all, but there had been no other way. The time for grief was past and he would see her again soon, Dwarves pull the huge, heavy doors open revealing The Horde, thousands upon thousands of them, waiting to take him and drag him down to the depths. He had lived a long, if not entirely happy, life; much longer than he was entitled, and it would give him no end of pleasure to take as many of them as he could with him.

Drawing his sword for a final time the King of Fereldan stepped across the threshold, paused for a moment to gather himself and rushed forward…

But that is just where our story ends. To see where it beings we have to go back, back to the origin, where it all began. Denerim.

The city of Denerim, capital of Fereldan tumbles hickeldy-pickeldy down the mountainside from the Keep of Fort Dracon down to the harbour that borders the Amorathean Ocean. Within this tumble lies the Elven Alienage, the district that houses the once powerful and magical Elves, who now live among humans as, at best, second class citizens.

Within the Alienage one of the Elves, a young girl Killaen crouches in the bushes, she pushes back her blood red hair, revealing bright green eyes in a classically beautiful, high cheek boned face, her right cheek sporting the already fading tattoo based on those the free Elves wore, her full lips part as she sights her quarry, Shianni's waist length bright red hair was pulled back in a lose braid and her gown was spotless as usual.

Killaen raised the home made bow and, knocking an arrow, drew the homespun string back to her cheek. Sighting down the arrow she jumped from the bushes into Shianni's path.

"Stop nave!" Killaen cried. "Lest you face your doom!"

Shainni paused for a moment, narrowed her eyes at her attacker, and then quite unexpectedly, hurled a glob of mud at the shorter child.

By the time Killaen's farther came running over to separate the children they were both covered in mud wrestling in the street.

Ten years later…

The weary traveller clambered up through the trees, toward the top of the bluff. He fervently hoped that the reports were wrong, that they hadn't returned, that he wasn't too late. He was still fretting when he emerged from the tree line to the top of the bluff. That was when he caught sight of the out runners, all dead. Beneath his shaggy, raven dark beard his moth opened in a ring of surprise. He stepped forward not wanting to see but having to. He reached out for the dead soldier turned him over; the sword still sticking from the knight's side confirmed his fears.

The low thrumming, almost only perceptible as a rumble in the ground made the traveller looked up, as the glow breached the horizon, it was as though the whole forest, the whole of The Wilds was a flame.

The two creatures, Darkspawn, thought to approach the travel weary man from behind and attack before he had a chance to react, they didn't bank on his sensing their presence, for his blood flowed with the same taint that theirs did, he had felt them from the moment they'd left the treeline.

Pulling the gnarled sword from the dead knight the traveller sidestepped the mace blow that would have crushed his skull and drove the blade into the evil creature's side, twisting he pulled the blade free in a wash of blood and swiped at the second Darkspawn opening its throat, killing it outright.

The first creature was still alive when the traveller kicked it from the edge of the bluff raising his eyes back to the horizon as the flame red glow advanced northward toward Ostagar and the pass.

In the dream Killean was at the head of a huge army, of men, and Evles, and Dwarves; beside her a man garbed in gold armour screamed out his battle roar as they charged to meet there enemy, the dream didn't permit her to see what her foe looked like, it was just a darkness and a burning city, somewhere she vaguely recognised, and then a voice, someone talking to her.

"Wake up cousin." Shianni snapped shaking the shorter Elf roughly.

Killian blinked her eyes open and pushed herself up onto her elbows. "What? But I was having such an interesting dream." She protested.

"No time for dreams." Shianni snapped pulling her up. "Do you forget what day it is today?"

"Midsummers day?" Killaen asked glibly.

Shianni just rolled her eyes. "It's your wedding day dear! And what a lovely party it will be."

Killean remembered the last party Shianni had gone to, and more importantly that it had been Killean that had carried her home afterward, when she was so drunk she could hardly stand, let alone walk back to their house. She had changed from the prim girl Killean had known in her youth to somewhat of a rabble rouser.

Ignoring Shianni's fussing Killean clambered out of bed and began to pull on her tunic. A cough brought her attention back to her cousin who was holding out a dress, the dress, her wedding dress. Killean had to admit it was beautiful, it had been passed down in her family for generations. Even her mother had worn it on her wedding day, or so she had been told. But even so, it just wasn't her, and she didn't want to marry anyway. Not yet, and defiantly not to a total stranger.

Shianni gave the corset a final tug, pulling it tight enough to preclude breath, Killean still managed to curse at her cousin.

"Ahh the sweet voice of my daughter." Cyrion stepped around the wooden partition, beaming as he caught sight of Killean in the dress. "You look radiant my deer."

Killean elbowed Shianni away before she could try and pull the damn corset any tighter and bounded forward to embrace her father.

"Are you ready for your big day?" Cyrion asked his daughter still beaming.

"I still don't see why I have to marry." The young Elf complained. Yes she knew arranged marriages were common place among the Elves, but still if she married she wanted it to be for love.

"It is tradition. And because I say so." He hugged her before she could complain more. "Wait here a moment, I have a gift for you."

He stepped over to a small chest, Killean recognised it as her mother's, and withdrew a small knife, the crescent blade was Elven made from red steel, and set into a beautifully carved ivory handle.

"It was your mothers." Cyrion said by way of explanation as he handed the exquisite blade to Killean. "She wanted you to have it."

Killean did not know what to say, she held the blade up so it caught the light. There was small rune carved into the base of the blade, Killean didn't recognise it, but felt the small hairs on her arms rise as she held it, after a moment she sheathed the beautiful weapon and slipped it into one of the pockets that had been sewn into her dress.

"Now go and meet your suitor." Cyrion said smiling again. "And best not tell him about your weapon training, at least not right away." With a final wave he let his daughter and nice go.

The main square of the Alienage was laid out around a huge knarled old tree, leaving Shianni to get ready, or more likely get drunk, again, Killean strode purposefully across the muddy square, that was already fill with Elves who would watch the ceremony.

"Killean!" The voice caught the read headed Elf's attention, and Killean walked over to the cart were a young family were preparing to leave.

"Nessa!" Killean greeted the youngest of the Elves. "You're leaving?"

"The human who owns our house evicted us." Nessa's father explained. "We're moving South to Highever, we'll be able to get work in the army camps there."

"Do you have to go?" Killean asked, shocked that her old friend would be leaving, wouldn't be there for her wedding. "I'm sure the others would be able to put you up if asked."

"I don't need your charity." Nessa's father stated closing the matter.

After saying a fond farewell to Nessa, Killean carried on across the Alienage, spotting Soris strode over to him.

"Care to celebrate the end of our independence then?" Soris asked jokingly, it was then Killean remembered that Sorris was to be wed today as well.

"It can't be that bad?" She asked searching his face for reassurance.

"Well for you maybe not." Sorris said. "You're groom is a dream come true. Whereas my bride is a dying moose by all accounts." He emphasised by blowing out his cheeks and waving his arms.

Killean controlled her laughter enough to reply. "I'm sure she's very nice."

"Grate." Sorris rolled his eyes. "So I spend the next fifty odd years with a "nice" girl who hides grain away for the winter!"

Unable to control her mirth any longer Killean burst out laughing.

Sorris glared at her until she quieted before offering to introduce her to her perspective mate, his words.

Lord Vaughn was son to the Arl How, Arl of Denerim, a tall leonine man with a mane of blond locks and strong jaw that was almost always set at a petulant angle. He had heard about the festivities in the Alienage and decided to partake of the local hospitality. He had seen her as soon as he had entered the squalid district, petite, but lean and strong looking with a defiant glint in her emerald green eyes. He wanted her, if he close his eyes he could almost see it now, the moment she realised she was bested, that she would be his to do with whatever he pleased, his little read-head.

Vaughn stepped up behind one of the girls and grabbed her roughly by the arms, she protested and he pushed her roughly away, it wasn't her he wanted anyway.

"It's a party isn't it?" He asked mockingly, he did enjoy making an entrance. "Grab a whore and have a good time." He turned to his men, an animal glint in his eye. "Savour the hunt boys, take this little Elf here." He gestured to one of the younger Elves his eyes never leaving his little read-head. "So young, so vulnerable."

During the Human's little speech Killean's hand had slipped into her pocket, she didn't even realise what she was doing until the tingling jumped up her arm as her fingers closed around the ivory handle of the knife.

"Touch her and I'll gut you like a pig." Shianni snapped at the Human Lord.

One of the other elves stepped forward to try and diffuse the situation but was silenced by a blow from the human. Inching the knife from its sheath Killean shifted her weight.

"I know what you're thinking." Sorris hissed placing a hand on her elbow to restrain the young Elf. "But maybe we shouldn't get involved."

"But Shianni will get herself killed!" Killean hissed back.

Sorris sighed resigned to his fate. "Fine, but let's at least try to be diplomatic."

Lord Vaughn enjoyed the display of power, the rush he got as the Elves backed away, the male he had just struck down trying to pick himself up covered in mud and grime. But not all. Two elves held fast, and one of them was his little read-head. How fortunate.

"What's this?" He asked stepping over the fallen Elf toward the pair. "Another lovely one come to keep me company."

"Dream on Shem*!" The feisty Elf retorted.

Vaughn just laughed in its face. "Do you have any idea who I am?" He asked, knowing that it probably didn't but wanting to savour this moment, the moment when it knew it had no choice; that the hunt was over and he had won, she was his. He was going to enjoy this so very…

Shianni slammed the earthenware bottle into the back of the Human's head with all the strength she could muster. He dropped like a stone to the dusty walk. Shianni stood over him in defiant victory.

But it couldn't last.

"Do you know who this is?" Snapped one of the other humans. "Vaughn Urien, the Arle of Denerim's son!"

The full impact of what she had just done, and to whom it had been done hit Shianni with an almost physical force.

"What? Oh Maker…" She breathed almost too quietly to be heard.

Killean jumped to her cousin's defence raiser sharp tong at the ready, but before she could get more than a half a word out Sorris had elbowed her had enough to drive the breath from her and stop what would have probably finished in bloodshed.

"Look. Things got out of hand…" He began.

"Just take him home." Sorris glared at Killean, willing her to shut up, while simultaneously admiring her resistance, to have recovered from his jab so quickly. "We won't say anything if you don't." Her eyes held a challenge and the knowledge that this Vaughn would not want news that he had been knocked out by an Elf woman to get out.

"You've a lot of nerve Knife-Ears." One of Vaughn's retainers retorted one hand resting on the pommel of his sword. As his companions hauled the still unconscious Lord to his feet and one under each arm dragged his inert bulk from the Alienage.

Killen watched them go one hand still on the knife and it wasn't until the last one was through the gate that she released her grip and rubbing the goose bumps from her arm followed Soris over to where Shianni was perched on the edge of the ceremonial platform head in her hands.

"Oh Maker, I've really messed up this time." She said without looking up.

Soris pushed himself up to perch next to her and draped a comforting arm across her shoulders.

"It'll be alright." He comforted. "He won't tell anyone that an Elven woman took him down."

Killian scoffed at the idea of all of Denerim finding out about it, it would be fun, well right up until the point they got a mob together and sacked the Alienage. As Soris moved toward the centre of the gathering Killean's attention was caught by another figure entering through the heavy doors that barred the entrance to the Alienage, not well enough today she thought, bitterly. The man, a human, was tall and tiered looking, with a mop of unruly, raven black hair and a full beard that obscured his expression. He was garbed in a heavy studded leather tunic and boots with armour plates at his shoulders, knees and elbows, belts crossed his large barrel chest. But it was none of this that held her attention it was the pair of swords slung across his back, one a steel Long-sword and the other a shorter sickle shaped elven blade.

Killean was broken from her musings as Soris jabbed her, again.

"Do that again and I'll cut…"

"Killean, this is Velora." Soris said interrupting Killan before she could elaborate, and gesturing toward a tall fairly large brunet with an enormous bosom, contained within a corn yellow, satin, dress that made Killean's look like dishrags. "My, umm, betrothed." He said the final word like it was from an unfamiliar language.

Killean's gaze drifted from the richly appointed woman to the man who stood at her side, he was tall, again, Maker they breed them big in Highever, with blond hair pulled into a short tail, at the back; he had a strong jaw and an honest looking face. Soris was right he wasn't hard to look at dressed in simple yet elegant clothing he seemed the antithesis of Velora. Preahps she could make this work, she suddenly realised she had been staring, in complete silence, and all of a sudden felt the need to say something, anything.

"And this must be my betrothed." She finally said.

"I'm a lucky man to be so warmly welcomed." He replied with only a hint of sarcasm reaching into his voice. Perhaps, Killean thought, he would be alright after all, a wit like that could take him far.

With a few words of farewell and a sly wink, Soris lead his buxom bride away to get ready, leaving Killean and… she couldn't for the life of her remember his name, had she even been told his name?

He broke first saying. "Well, here we are…" He glanced around obviously fairly nervous. "so are nervous."

Killean arched an eyebrow; the jabbering wreck he was becoming undid all the good work his looks and the sarcasm had achieved. Before she could reply he carried on.

"I thought I'd stay calm, but seeing you here, Maker you're beautiful, makes me just, well, not calm."

Interrupting the diatribe before he actually vomited all over her dress killan asked him about the trip up from Highever.

He was half way through explaining that the carrage they had gained passage on was beneath the notice of highwaymen when Soris sidled over his bride following him with somewhat of a bounce in her step.

"Come on cousin." He muttered. "We should leave these two to get ready."

Killean was glad enough for an excuse to get out of there, her gaze kept traveling back to the strange traveller, so she let Soris lead her off.

With, "We'll see you two in a bit, don't disappear on us." From Velora the two cousins made their escape.

Duncan watched as the pair of Elves, a crimson haired woman with a slightly younger man, he would guess they were related by the similarity in their appearances, broke away from their companions, that was when the male Elf noticed him for the first time, the other, he knew, had been watching him keenly from his moment of entrance. She looked as though she might have potential, and if she were Kean's daughter as he suspected then she would be the one he had been looking for.

"Don't look now but we have trouble." Soris muttered noticing the human traveller for the first time.

Killean rolled her eyes but said nothing; Soris was never the most observant Elf around.

"We should move him along before someone dose something stupid." He continued, he may not have been observant but he had foresight, especially after Vaughn's visit some of the Elves might not react well to another human, especially one so openly armed. The pair headed for the newcomer with purposeful strides.

As the pair of Elves approached the stranger crossed his arms over his chest bowing from the waist in a classical Elven gesture.

"Good day," He greeted them openly. "I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding, or weddings." His smile was open and friendly, Killean instantly distrusted him.

Soris opened his mouth to say something typically polite and not to the point, but Killean beat him to it, as was normal. "You should probably leave now, before things become unpleasant." She was still riled up from Vaughn and let the implication hang.

"What kind of unpleasantness would you be referring to?" The stranger asked in an irritatingly banal voice, with the hint of a Rhodesian accent.

"Look the Alienage just isn't a safe place to be right now." Killean retorted dodging another elbow from Soris.

"I am sorry." The stranger replied calmly, Killean could imagine she would get no more reaction from him if she were to put an arrow through his gut. "But I have no intention of leaving."

Killean took a calming breath lest she just stab the man, if for no other reason than to get a reaction before speaking again. "Look. I will ask you once more politely. Please leave." The last was delivered from between clenched teeth.

The infuriating human looked past Killean and Soris addressing someone behind them.

"She keeps her composure even when facing down an unknown and armed human. A true gift wouldn't you say, Valendrian?"

Killean, shocked, looked around to see Valendrian, one of the Alienage elders approaching the stranger with an easy smile touching his lips. The elder knew this man, this infuriating human was addressing him as an old friend.

"I would say." The elder Elf took the offered hand of the stranger. "The world has far more use for those who know when to stay their blade."

This maid Killean realise that not once during the confrontation had she reached for the concealed knife, and its strangely comforting affects.

Valendrian was still addressing the stranger. "It is good to see you again old friend it has been far too long."

They were friend's? Killean just stared openly at the display of friendship between the elder and this human.

Finally she flustered: "I'm sorry, I had no idea…" She trailed off as the pair began to smile at her.

"Oh? Changing your tune so quickly?" The human gently mocked her, laughing.

"May I present Duncan." Valendrain said. "The head of the Grey Wardens in Fereldan."

Soris was still staring mouth partially open completely agog at all of this. Killean had of course heard of the Wardens, the grate protectors of all Thedas, those who would stand against the darkness, those who above all else, human at least, deserved her respect.

"Well met Duncan." She said simply folding her arms over her chest and bowing, hoping the move would not cause her to fall out of the damn corset.

"But my question still remains unanswered Duncan." Valendrain pressed. "Why are you here?"

The Warden became immediately grave, all the mirth running from his face like water as he spoke. "The worst has happened: a Blight has begun. King Cailan summons the Wardens to fight the Darkspawn Horde alongside his army at Ostagar."

The pair continued speaking but Killean didn't hear them her mid was reeling at the implications of this, the Kingdom was going to war, against this ancient devastating evil, something she had only heard in tails and legends, she unconsciously wet her lips in anticipation at the mere thought of something like that. The adventure, would be wondrous.

Killean's revere was broken as Valendrain asked them, for Makers sake, to take their places, which they did leaving Duncan, the Warden, to watch.

The Denerim Elves gatherd under their grate tree around the ceremonial stage to witness the double wedding about to take place, many said it was about time Cyrion's daughter was married, that a man would keep her out of trouble. The same trouble that had gotten her pore mother killed. Others wondered if the man stood beside her would be enough to tame the young rebel roser. While others, mostly the younger ones, took wagers as to how long it would last, and weather the poor man would survive.

On the stage Killean stood beside her betrothed, the man soon to be her husband, the man who she still could not, for the life of her, remember the name of.

"Oh Sorial." Velora bubbled, Killean sighed at least she had the common decency to admit she couldn't remember her groom's name. "There you are, we thought you'd run off."

"No, I'm here." Soris reassured her. "With Nelaros's blushing bride in tow."

Nelaros, that was it! At least she knew the name of the man who she would have to spend the rest of her lift with.

"You look… radiant." Nelaros whispered to Killean, she blushed, she had never had a man complement her, not while sober at any rate. Maybe this could work out, she looked at him again, trying to get past her churlish first impressions, maybe, given time she could grow to like him, perhaps even love him, she owed it to him to try at least.

"Why thank you my betrothed." She replied rather formally. "You look hansom."

There was just time for final words of encouragement from Soris and the ceremony began, as Valendral stepped up onto the stage and began.

"Friends, Family.

Today we celebrate not only the joining,

But also our bonds of kin and kind.

We are a free people, but t'was not always so

Andraste the Makers Prophet,

Freed us from the bonds of slavery.

As our community grows remember,

Our strength lies in commitment

To tradition and to each other."

As the Elder finished the Chantry's Revered Mother stepped up onto the stage to perform the final wedding rites.

"In the name of the maker who brought us this world,

And in whose name we say the chant of light…"

She was cut off by a commotion from the gate, damn thing might as well be left open for all the good it's doing today, Killean thought.

Vaughn, his retainers at his side strode toward the Alienage, the guard that flanked him was pestering him, trying to convince him it wasn't worth it, that he should just turn around and go home. But was having none of it, he would take her, he would take all of them for what they had done to him, they deserved nothing less, the vermin.

As the Arl's son barged past the Elven children who were playing by the gate he heard a familiar voice.

"Milord." The robed figure on the stage, the Revered Mother, turned to face his party as they began to barge their way through the assembled elves. "This is… an unexpected surprise."

Even handed as ever, Vaughn thought, if only the laws would permit him to have her, just for a night, or even an hour, he would make her, and her gods bend to his will.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mother." His voice dripped with scorn as he used her title as more of an insult. "I'm having a party, and we're desperately short of female guests."

Killean's eyes tracked the petulant human as he strode up onto the stage and surveyed the bridesmaids and hand maidens, like cattle at market.

"Milord." The Chantry Mother seemed to be becoming rather riled up by this, Cillean thought well of her to stand up to Vaughn for them, the Chantry, at least in Denerim, treated the Elves with at least a measure of respect. "This is a wedding!"

Vaughn scoffed, Killean's hand reach into her pocket for the knife. "If you want to dress up your pets and have tea parties, that's your business. But don't pretend this is a proper wedding."

As Vaughn addressed his men he scanned the crowd, there were two he wanted, the one that had attacked him, he had something spatial in mind for her, and his little read-head.

"Where's the bitch that bottled me?" He snapped, immediately one of his retainers pushed her forward, with a cry of exaltation. "We'll take her, those two, that one in the tight dress, and…" He scanned the crowd looking for his fiery little Elf, finally spotting her behind a well-dressed male. "…the pretty bride."

Nelaros stepped protectively in front of Killean. "Don't worry." He assured her. "I won't let them take you."

"I won't let them take Shianni!" Killean snapped back inching her knife from its sheath.

"Ahh yes, such a well formed little thing." Vaughn said, stepping in close enough to ogle down her top, as two of his men grabbed her from behind, likely she had the presence of mind to drop the dagger back into her pocket as her arms were pulled roughly up behind her.

Duncan watched from the shadows as the spoilt young lord and his men began to gather up the Elven women, his hand strayed to the hilt of his hunting knife, a short leaf shaped blade as Killean pulled against her attackers in defence of her friends, and the man she hardly knew. She was a feisty one, spirited, but more than that he knew that given half the chance she'd fight them all, for no other reason than to protect the man she had met less than an hour ago. It may have been an odd sense of riotousness but it was one all the same. He winced as the nobleman, to whom the title was far from befitting, lost patience and struck Killean across the face hard enough to knock her senseless. He stepped back into the shadows as the Elven women were dragged, or carried from the Alienage.

Soris pulled himself to his feet and wiped blood away from his mouth, that damn Shem had given him a split lip, and a bloody nose.

"Are you alright child?" The Revered Mother was at his side helping him up and brushing the dust from his trousers.

Soris brushed the Chantry Mother off and walked toward the crowd that was forming around Valendral and the Warden, some were calling for blood, vengeance. While others said that any action they took would be met with reprisals, making things worse for the rest of the Alienage. Still others, though they were fewer in number called for calm. Soris frustrated that both of his cousins, and his bride had been taken by that human bastard, approached the crowd.

"Please all of you listen!" Valendral's voice raised above that of the gathering crowd; trying to calm them. "I know you are upset, and with good reason. But there is nothing we can do right now."

"He's right." One of the older women, one of the few who had been calling for calm, agreed. "Running after them will just make matters worse."

"So we what? Nothing?" Soris called pushing his way through the crowd. "They took my cousins."

"Do we even know where they were taken?" Another Elf butted in.

"They would be taken to the Arle's palace I expect." Valendral said trying to keep the peace. "Normally I would counsel patience." This raised a chorus of boos from half the crowd. "But if the stories I have heard about the Arel's son's appetites are, most disturbing." This raised another chorus of shocked murmurs, from the other half of the crowd.

Soris was beside himself by this point. He had to do something. "Perhaps we could go to the garrison."

"And what help would they offer us!" Came the reply from several quarters.

"How would we even get in there?" Soris looked over to see Nelaros, chiming in for the first time, Soris was surprised that he, this relative newcomer, would step up to help them, to help Killean. "Even with the Arle and his knights gone it'll be guarded."

A dark skinned elf with enormous ears that Soris had a vague recollection of picking on from time to time spoke up. "Elder, may I offer a suggestion." As the nod from Valendral he continued. "I work in the palace, in the kitchens to be exact, and well, you see-"

"Spit it out man!" Soris snapped infuriated with the other's blundering, both Valenral and the Warden shot him looks that quite obviously said remain silent, before nodding for the other Elf to continue.

"I could sneak one, perhaps two in through the servant's entrance, no-one well notice an extra pair of elves around the place."

Before anyone else could react to the news Nelaros stepped forward. "I will go."

Soris was only half a step hind him. "I'll come of course, but you should know if we get into trouble we won't be able to talk or way out of it."

"No." Everyone turned to Duncan who stepped forward , towering over the crowd for the first time. "For that you will need weapons." As he spoke he began unbuckling his sword belt. "I would offer my long sword, and bow to aid you. A man should be able to defend his loved ones properly." Soris took the offered sword, it seemed well made if rather heavy, it took both his hands to hold it up, while Nelaros took the offered crossbow, it was of compact design with heavily recurved limbs and a quiver of grey flighted arrows.

"Then your path is set." Valendros said gravely, as the rest of the crowd began to disperse. "May the Maker look on it with favour." It was obvious from his voice that he didn't approve of this course of action. But despite his own reservations would allow them to go anyway. Soris wondered, in a moment of unusual clarity, if perhaps the presence of the Warden had coloured his reactions.

Soris and Nelaros followed the dark skinned elf from the alienage their weapons concealed beneath their clothing.

Killean didn't dream this time, she just seemed to float for a time, and then she was on a cold stone floor, in a dingy room, the cold and the damp were the first things she noticed, then the muttering, someone was chanting over and over, she couldn't quite make out the words though.

"Stop it!" Now that voice she recognised, Shianni. "You're driving me insane."

Killean finaly opened her eyes and tried to sit up, the room spun, and she rolled over vomiting.

"Thank the Maker, your finally awake." Shianni exclaimed helping Killean to sit upright long enough for the room to stop spinning and for her to get her bearings. "We were so worried."

"I'm ok." Killean replied groggily, then looked around. "Where are we?"

"We're in the palace of course." Shianni helped Killean to her feet and stayed at her elbow as she took a couple of shaky steps. "I doubt we're getting the grand tour though."

Killean pushed her cousin away and found she could stand without help.

"We were thrown in here to wait until that, bastard is ready for us." Velora explained.

"We need to come up with a plan." Killean said looking at the other women.

"Well I for one don't want to get killed." Snapped one of the women, Killean didn't know her and right now didn't want to. "We have no weapons, and that door is locked solid!"

Killean, irritated by the woman's defeatist attitude, waved her into silence. She was however right, they were unarmed and locked in. She tried to think of a way out, walking toward the door she shoved her hands into her pockets, and almost immediately felt the tingeing up her arm as her fingers brushed the hilt of her knife. The stupid Shem hadn't thought to check them for weapons, she was armed. One knife however did not a plan make.

Her plotting was broken as the heavy studded door was pushed open and a group of guardsmen entered, all armed and armoured.

"NO!" One of the girls screamed, Killean recognised her as Alyssa, her bridesmaid. "STAY AWAY FROM US!" She rushed for the guard captain, who contemptuously drew his sword and slashed it in a horizontal arc across Alyssa's throat.

Shianni was livid, screaming at the guards while Killean, who had been further forward, watched in shock at the matter of fact way the guard had killed her friend, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, she didn't even notice that her dress had been covered in blood, her friends blood. He fingers clenched tighter round the handle of her knife, and she looked up at the guard who was still speaking, still breathing.

"That's what happens when you try teaching whores some respect."

The captain continued giving orders for the each of the men to take a girl, until there were only two left.

He finished with: "You two bind the last one, she's a scrapper."

The guards smiled at Killean and calmly walked up to her despite their captain's warning.

"Don't worry, we'll be perfect gentlemen." The first one said, he sported a beard, although not as full as Duncan's it gave him a menacing, almost evil countenance.

"Now you heard the captain." The second one, the younger of the two added. "Be a good little wench or you'll end up like your friend there."

Killean just watched them approach her, as though observing from a distant hilltop, her hand still on the dagger, her mind reeling from what she had seen, it was the first time she'd seen death, proper death, up close and personal like that, it was horrific, evil! But her tong it seemed needed little input from her brain as she head herself saying, as though from a very long way away.

"Try it, and see what parts you lose first."

The guards just chuckled at that and advanced on the young Elf. Killean didn't know if she could do it, stop them, didn't even know if, if it came down to it, that she would be able to kill them, but she knew that was what would happen next, they would die, or she would, there was no other way, no middle ground here, not any more. Alyssa's body still draining it's life blood on the floor had seen to that.

The knock on the cell door made them all look around in shock.

Soris followed the dark skinned Elf through the palace grounds without incident, there had been a couple of close calls, especially when that Mabari had almost found them hiding in the bushes. It was only Nelaros quick thinking , throwing some scraps of meat from his pouch away from them, which the dog headed for with a fever that shocked Soris, he had heard about Mabari hounds and their appetites but had never seen one up so close, and never wanted to again, come to that.

Moving carefully dodging the guard patrols they finally reached the side entrance that lead from the kitchen into the palace' small herb garden.

"Now there should be only one guard in side and he's normally so drunk he won't notice us." The Elf servant assured them.

He had been right and the guard, a man so fat he could hardly still fit his armour snored loudly leaning back in his chair. That was where the servant had left them to find their own way, and the pair had stopped for a moment in the lea of a small cupboard to plan. It had been decided that Nelaros would guard the hallway while Soris the smaller and quicker of the two would try and find the girls, in the hope that they were still locked up somewhere near the kitchens, neither said it but if they had already been taken both men would feel compelled to fight their way through the castle until they reached Vaughn's chambers or were killed.

Soris had his sword out as he slipped through the shadows of the castle kitchen toward an open door from which he could hear voices.

"Try it and see which pieces you lose first." That was Killean's voice; he risked a glance around the door to see two armed guards bearing down on the small Elf woman who stood watching them expression distracted, almost disinterested. There was something very wrong with Killean he surmised and sprang into action, such as it was, himself.

Rapping politely on the open cell door he stepped over the threshold, holding the sword in the basic guard position Killean had taught him. "Um… Hello?"

The guards just looked at him in complete shock for a moment, then one, the bearded one, burst out laughing.

"Oh look at this." He mocked, as Soris stance faltered. "A little Elfling with a stolen sword."

Soris took a step back as the guards advanced on him, he had no expectations as to his fighting skill, they would disarm him, and probably kill him within seconds should he chose to fight them.

Killean watched the guards turn and mock Soris, her cousin, her friend. Not everything in her world lay bloodied and broken in that cell. She blinked trying to shake off the disjointed feeling, if she didn't do something, right now Soris would join Alyssa on the floor of that cell, and she didn't think she could survive that.

Soris did the only sensible thing he could see, and threw the sword underhand between the two guards. They watched it tumble end over end missing them both by miles, both men wondering what the Elifling was playing at.

Killean lunged forward with a speed and dexterity she didn't know she possessed and snatched the tumbling sword from the air before it could hit the floor.

The guards followed the sword as it fell, as it was caught, their eyes moved up from the sword, past the lean arm that held it, to the face of the young Elf maiden, she cocked her head as a small smile played on her lips.

"Oh sod." The younger man breathed at the sight of this angel of death that was about to descend on them.

"It's only one small woman!" Snapped the older guard; his features twisting into a sneer as he advanced. His face registered momentary shock before it lost contact with the rest of his body.

The borrowed long-sword was heavier that Killean was used to and she almost overbalanced as she swung the razor sharp blade in a vicious arc that took the first guard's head from his shoulders. The other guard was given momentary pause but had his sword out quickly enough and before Killean could recover he lunged. The slight Elf barely managed to dodge the lunge, dropping the borrowed sword in the process.

The guard saw his chance and pressed the advantage driving Killean back toward the cell wall and a quick death, he, however, didn't bank on Soris intervention, as the young man leaped on his back and pulled the visor of his helmet sharply down onto the bridge of his nose.

This brief pause gave Killean the chance she needed to pull the knife, as she did so the now familiar tingling spread up her arm, raising gooseflesh in its wake, but at the same time her mind seemed to sharpen, the world seemed to come into greater focus around her as she held the unsheathed blade. The guard shook Soris off and, pulling his helmet off, came at her again with a downward blow intended to save in her skull. When the blow landed the young Elf just wasn't there, with almost lighting fast speed Killean sidestepped the blow and drove her mother's dagger into the guard's unprotected side. As the blade connected there was a thunderclap and a blinding flash of light, followed shortly by the scent of ozone and burnt flesh. The guard convulsed once and collapsed, wisps of smoke rising from beneath his armour.

"What was that?" Soris exclaimed.

"I have no idea." Killean admitted to her cousin. "We should get out of here."

They were turning to leave when Soris saw the dead body of Alyssa. Tears sprung unbidden to his cheeks as he rushed to her side.

"I… I can't." He started, chocked, and tried again. "I can't believe they killed her!" He turned up to Killean tears shining on his face. "Are you ok? They didn't hurt you did they?"

She just shook her head, they hadn't touched her, but what they had done had been worse in a way, there was something inside her that was broken, that they had broken, and she feared it would never be right again. Looking at him she envied Soris his tears, his grief.

"We should get going." She finally said.

Soris got up scrubbed the tears from his face with the rough sleeve of hit tunic, and turned to face his cousin. "Yes, Duncan, the Warden, gave us his sword and bow but that and your knife isn't much against the palace guards." Killean shot him a quizzical look. "Neleros and I, we came for you and the other girls."

Her eyebrows shot up at this, she wouldn't have thought Nelaros capable of something like this, something so… heroic. "Nelaros, he's here?"

"Yes, he wailed on those who wanted to wait and see. He's guarding the hallway, we should get going."

Soris lead his cousin quietly from the cell.

Out in the kitchen the pair of Elves crept through the shadows trying to stay silent, so as not to disturb the cook who was salving away over a cauldron of some sort of fowl smelling broth. This went fine right up until the point the handle of Soris' sword clipped a small earthenware jar sending it tumbling to the floor with a monumental clatter.

"What's this?" The chef snapped turning to face them. "Stop skulking and come out into the light where I can see you."

Urging Soris to go first, with her close behind Killean stepped from the shadow of a low worktop into the light thrown from the room's large open fire.

The cook eyed them for a moment trying to work out if he knew them, if they were supposed to be working for him, then he caught a glimpse of the blood still dripping from the front of Killean's dress.

"That's blood!" He exclaimed. "You're bandits! Rebels! Outlaws! The guards will make quick work of you-" He was cut off as a slim, dark hared Elf crept up behind him and slammed a medium sized cooking pot into the back of his head.

"You have no idea how long that Shem's had it coming." Their saviour grumbled as the cook crumpled to the grubby kitchen floor.

"Did you see the guards take a group of Elven maidens?" Soris asked quickly catching the man who was obviously about to make a brake for it.

"Yes." He said looking down as though ashamed. "Dragged them to lord Vaughn's quarters they did. You should hurry If you want to help them." He nodded to the pair of Elves and bolted for the door. "Now I must get out of here before the storm hits."

With that he was gone leaving the cousins alone in the kitchen, a quick rekey of the place turned up a pair of breaches and a loose fitting shirt which Killean quickly changed into discarding her torn blood soaked dress. The trousers fit just about but the shirt was huge dropping down to her knees, until she tied it in place with a length of rope through which she secured the dagger.

When she was done the pair pushed the door to the dining room, which Soris assured her had been empty when he and Nelaros had arrived. That was where their luck, such as it was ran out.

Garret leaned back in his chair listing to the bickering of the other guards as they sat down to their food. A moment of quiet contemplation and he leaned forward inhaling the scent of his own dinner. His eyebrows shot up; for once it was actually appetising. The Chef must have been having an off day; he usually only served the guards a selection of broths or stews that had been left for so long as to have all trace of flavour boiled out of them. The other two guards were loudly debating the concept and potential benefits of Dwarven hookers. He picked up his fork and poked it into the stew; low and behold there was meat, actual dead animal, in his food. Popping the hunk of unusually succulent meat into his moth he chewed slowly savouring the salty sweet flavour for a moment, heck this was really good food. Had someone replaced the chef?

Garret closed his eyes enjoying the flavour and letting the debate of his colleges flow over him. During a fortuitous lull in the conversation he heard the door creak open. He glanced over to the kitchen door rocking his chair back on to all four legs. A pair of Elves stepped through, he was about to throw some barb at them about servants staying out of the guardhouse, when he saw the sword the male one was carrying.

"Where did you get a weapon, Elf?" Garret asked, his had straying to where his short-sword was belted at his waist.

The male Elf faltered, as the other two guards advanced on them.

"You'd better talk quick, scum!" snapped one of the other guards, sporting a huge ginger handlebar moustache, while the third guard reached for his bow.

"You see we found it." Soris stammered. "And we, er, were trying to, er, bring it back to the armoury."

Killean shifted her weight, centring herself. Her hand moving slowly to the dagger on her belt, things were going to go bad, quickly. The ginger guard already had his weapon unsheathed, and the one behind him was nocking an arrow to his bow.

"Look boys." Killean said stepping past Soris subtly putting herself between him and the armed guards. "We don't want any trouble, so why don't you just go back to your game and let us be."

The ginger one sneered. "We're going to gut you maggots slowly." Pulling his sword and stepping toward the pair of Elves.

Garret did not like the way this was going, sure he had no problem with dispatching the intruders, they were just Elves, but he'd still rather enjoy his stew. There was still a decent chance the Elves could just be disarmed and thrown out. There was the crack of a bow, flowed by the whistling of an arrow.

Maker be damned, he cursed, he just wanted a quiet meal, a quiet life. Rising from the chair he drew his short-sword and stepped toward the male Elf who had his own larger sword raised in a basic guard.

Killean, her hand on the dagger, saw the arrow coming and twisted out of its path just in time, her head whipping around to follow its path as it passed her and imbedded its self in the door jamb. The other guard, the ginger one, came at her; twin short swords raised and an almost animal glint in his eye. He was quick and skilled whipping both blades at Killean, pushing her back with a flurry of blows that she barely avoided. Beside her Soris was doing his best against the other guard. She danced further back trying to keep the dual wielding guard between her and the archer denying him another shot. The guard launched a flurry of blows at the young Elf pushing her further back. As Killean backed up she hooked a chair leg with her foot and kicked it out toward the guard who was so intent on his own attack that he tripped.

The ginger guards trip gave the archer the opening he needed and he sighted another arrow on the Elf girl. With a snap of limbs the arrow was in flight, Killean saw it too late and tried to dodge out the way. The ginger guard saw his chance and, intent on his target he lunged up. The arrow took him in the back of the neck.

Killean grabbed the sort sword from the downed guard and vaulted the table charging toward the archer, she batted aside another shot with the sword before closing, and shoving her newly acquired sword into his chest.

Garret parried the strike from the Elf and with a quick flick of his wrist, struck the long-sword from the Elf boy's hand; He raised his sword to the boy's throat.

"Look lad." He began. "Just take the girl and get out of here." But before either of them knew what was happening, the Elf woman was back across the room, striking his sword with her small knife. There was a thunderclap and it felt like he had been struck by lightning, his entire body convulsed throwing him backward into the table. Life just was not fair on Garret; his last thoughts before blacking out were that he would never be able to finish the stew.

Soris knelt down to grab the borrowed long-sword from the floor, while Killean took up the dead guards bow, and pulled the quiver from his belt. While Soris dusted himself off she tested the draw on the bow, it wasn't as smooth as she was used to, being a fairly second rate weapon, but it would do.

Nelaros shifted his weight anxiously, Soris had him guarding the passage further into the castle Duncan's crossbow in hand. He checked the quiver at his side, he only had six bolts, it did not seem like many, but then he hoped he didn't have to use any of them.

"Come on Soris, where are you?" He muttered turning to check the door back the way he'd come, they, Soris and the girls should have been back by now.

"What do we have here then?" The voice whipped Nelaros about to face the trio of guards. They had noticed on the way in that the guards seemed to patrol in groups of three. Nelaros panicked at the sight of them. The crossbow bolt went wide clattering off the wall ineffectually. The middle guard, who was wearing a fancy helmet, the one that had spoken drew his sword, and with a vicious grin thrust it into the frantic Elf, who by that point was fumbling a second bolt into the crossbow.

Killean and Soris moved cautiously down the fire lit hallway away from the kitchen, toward where Soris had sent Nelaros to guard. They hadn't gone far, before Soris tapped Killeans shoulder, pointing toward the next door, a construct of ironbound heavy oak, which peeled off to the right just before a dead end that sported some ornate wood carving. Soris gestured that Nelaros was just beyond the slightly ajar door. Killean was surprised to find she was glad to be able to see the big Elf again. She still was not sure how she felt about him, but to do this, to come in here after her, it was impressive to say the least.

She didn't realise she had paused until Soris was passing her. The young elf maiden cocked her head, listening, was that the snapping retort of a crossbow? She reached out grabbing the young Elf before he could blunder on in, and together the pair crept toward the slightly open door.

As the red haired Elf peered around the oak doorjamb she saw the guard pull his sword from the inert body of her betrothed. Nelaros was dead, there was too much blood spreading across the floor beneath him for anything else. As she saw the pool of blood expand around the man she hardly knew, she felt the strange numbness spread over her again, before she knew what was happening she was stood in the doorway the heavy oak door clattering back against the wall, the guards looking up from Nelaros' body, seeing her, and finaly, him. The guard captain, the one that had killed Alyssa, who had Nelaros' blood still dripping from his blade. He looked up and sneered at her.

"Well look boys there's more. See I told you Elves always run in packs. Like rodents." The Guard Captain's voice came as though from a long way off.

"Should we keep the knife-eared bitch alive?" One of the other guards asked.

The Guard captain shook his head. "They killed our boys, she dies." It almost looked, to the analytical far away part of Killean's mind that he relished the idea of killing her.

"You killed Nelaros." She heard her voice, small, quiet, empty.

The guard captain, the human with the blood of her friends on his hands barked with laughter. "He squealed like a stuck pig when he died."

The guard captain continued to wax lyrical about his vanquishing of the Elvan intruder, but Killean couldn't hear it over the rush of blood in her ears, and the tide of emotion that drove her to her knees. Nelaros, the man she hardly knew, the moron, the man who despite everything seemed to want her, the one who had come to her rescue, the man to whom she was wed. He was dead now, and it was all gone, could she have grown to love him? Maybe, but that was taken from her now, taken by the Shem to stood over her sneering, the fatherless whore who had killed poor defenceless Alyssa right in front of her, the man who had taken her innocence.

She hadn't realised she was kneeling in Nelaros' blood until she reached for her dropped bow and felt it slick with still warm blood, her right hand closed around the knife as white hot hate washed over her, almost blinding her driving her upward.

She was too close to use the bow, at least as a bow. The knife it was then. With all her strength, and a strength she never knew she had the trust it at the nearest guard, even with the power of her rage behind it and the supernaturally sharp edge it held it was not enough to penetrate the heavy steel and leather plate the guard was wearing. Not that it mattered. The bolt of lightning flew from the blade, as though enhanced by her rage, or perhaps just conducted by the steel plate, engulfed the guard who spammed up onto tiptoes his back bowed arms throw back for a second before being thrown back against the wall black and smoking. The knife, which had lodged in between the armoured plates, was torn from her grip.

The second guard hesitated, shocked at the brutal viciousness of the slight Elf woman. Only for a split second; it was too long, he never saw the haft of Killean's borrowed shortbow coming. The ash stave hit the guard in the face in an explosion of blood, spittle and teeth. Keeping the momentum of the sweep the young Elf maiden yanked the second rate sword from its sheath at the guard's waist and spun, putting all her strength into a two handed sweep at the captain's head.

The guard captain caught the Elf woman's sweep on his shield, the force of the impact thrumming up his offhand arm; he tried to take half a step back, get proper fighting distance between the two of them but she pressed forward far quicker than he would have thought possible and was on him like a wild animal.

Killean's rush backed the human toward Nelaros' body, as she rained blows from the heavy sword down on his shield hard enough to dent the rough metal surface, given enough time the Elf would have managed to hammer through his defences, but before she had the chance the human slipped on the still spreading puddle of blood and went down, in a flash Killean was on him pinning him under her body weight. He tried to bring his sword to bear but the weapon was too long and unwieldy at such close range.

Killean had the same problem with using the sword blade, but the read head Elf still a tornado of fury slammed the heavy pummel down on his lightly armoured sword arm, the heavy leather of the guard captain's armguard would have turned a blade but did little to stop the blunt force of the pommel, and a second strike was accompanied by the crunching of bone and his forearm was shattered. He cried out in pain as the wild Elf ripped his helmet away and started beating him around the head with her sword pommel.

Soris was only a beat behind Killean as she flew through the door but the battle was mostly over by the time he got there. One of the guards was a burnt smoking hulk, slumped against the wall, the second, bleeding heavily from the face tried to pull himself to his feet groggily. Soris stepped forward and knocked him to the floor with a blow from Duncan's sword. Turning his eyes fell upon the seen in the middle of the room. Killean crouched over the guard captain like some sort of feral monster, coated in blood still beating the pommel of her sword, where in the deeps had she gotten a sword? Into what was left of the captain's head, still screaming, beside them Nelaros lay unmoving, dead.

"Kil?" He stepped toward her weary. "Kilean?" H reached out and touched her shoulder. She snapped toward him snarling brining the sword round, but her arms were too weak to swing the heavy blade and the tip dragged along the floor. Moving the sword to one side he grabbed his young cousin by the shoulder. He searched her eyes for some remnant of the girl he had known for almost her entire life.

Killean? Are you there?" He asked again more gently.

She blinked, as the anger faded leaving her empty and alone. She started shivering as she looked down at her hands they were slick with blood, she could feel globs of blood and thicker tings running down her face and her top. She started to breath hard and fast, her eyes welling up with tears. Tears for Alyssa, for Nelaors, for herself.

Soris took her into his arms as she wept, her hand reaching out to Nelaros.

"I'm sorry cousin. I', so sorry."

After a time Killean pulled herself upright Soris produced a flask of cold water and a cloth form somewhere and Killean cleaned the gore from her face and hands. When that was done and she was as clean as she was going to get, the pair turned toward Nelaros' body.

"He came to save me?" Killean said quietly. "He died for me."

"Well then." Soris said. "We'd better make sure that it wasn't in vein then."

The pair were pulled from their moment of reference by voices on the other side of the door, more guards. The sound of the human voices brought the anger back up inside Killean but it was less, colder somehow. She could think past it, function.

Soris looked around worriedly as Killean recovered her shortbow, it was none the worse for ware for having been used as a cudgel.

"Soris." She snapped. "Get by the door, be ready to hit their flank."

The young Elf nodded and moved into position, while Killean nocked and arrow and drew the bow back to her cheek as the guards slammed the door open.

The first guard through the door tasted ash, then blood shortly before collapsing to the floor dead. The second guard tripped over the first and Soris blade bit into the back of his neck. The third tried to back away from the door and only got an arrow through his shoulder for his trouble but buy then the two Elves were coming through the door and Soris borrowed sword finished him.

It must have taken them the better part of half an hour to find their way through the manor house. It wasn't that they faced much opposition, but the layout was so convoluted they kept getting turned about. The one good thing about all their adventuring was the armoury, where Killean found a gorgeous Yew longbow, which she used to replace the cheap ash bow she'd been using until that point. The weapon was beautiful, obviously lovingly made, with such a smooth draw it felt like nothing, she was in love from the first moment she saw it, hung in pride of place on the armoury wall. So entranced was she by the weapon she hadn't noticed the guard who Soris had to dispatch by himself.

Finally the pair found themselves outside Vaughn's chambers, or at least that's what the body guard had said after Killean had put a couple of arrows in him.

The pair stood outside the heavy oak door and shifted nervously, now that they were here they weren't quite sure what to do.

"So how are we going to do this?" Soris asked finally.

"Hard and fast." Killean replied nocking an arrow. "You go in first cover with the shield, I'll be right behind you." Her cousin looked nervous but nodded and moved forward toward the door, his shield held high.

Vaughn leaned down to kiss the feisty Elvan girl and she spat in his face. The Lord backed away wiping the spittle from his face and beard before drawing his hand back to strike the female Elf again. He had to admit she had spirit, even after the beatings, and other activities he and his men had put her to, she was still fighting. He liked that about her, it was always more fun when they fought back.

The Lord leaned in again, this time pinning her arms. He lowered his head ready to force himself on her, when the door crashed open.

One of the Lord's men barked in surprise as an arrow whistled toward him, the human was just fast enough to escape with a graze. Vaughn stood slowly, pushing the Elf roughly back to the floor.

"My, my, what do we have here?" He asked rhetorically as he turned to face the pair of Elves that had just broken in. The first one a slight male hunkered down, as though hiding behind his shield, but it was the second that drew Vaughn's attention. It was his read head, escaped, and apparently armed, with his bow. But her cloths, the loose fitting tunic was soaked with blood and plastered to her lithe figure in a very appealing way, a small smile played across the Human Lord's lips.

"Don't worry." One of his retainers scoffed. "We'll make short work of these two."

Vaughn snapped at the man to quiet. "They're covered in enough blood to fill a tub." His eyes still tracked the line of the girl's body beneath the blood soaked top. "What do you think that means?"

"It means." The female snapped, the fire in her voice giving even Vaughn pause. "That all your guards are dead. No one's coming to save you this time." At the last a small smile played across her luscious lips.

"Alright, let's not be hasty here." He knew the girl was spoiling for a fight, and didn't want to see her dead. And perhaps, even though he would never take ownership of the feeling, he was worried she would win. "Surely we can talk this over…"

"You really think you can talk your way out of this?" Scoffed the Elf woman; still holding the bowstring to her cheek.

"Here's our situation." Vaughn blustered. "You are obviously quite skilled. We fight here; perhaps you might even manage to kill us." He felt sure that even if the Elf maiden took him, that his men would finish her. "But my father won't let that go. Your pigsty of an Alienage will be raised to the ground. Or you turn and walk away, with forty sovereigns added to your purse." He smiled, knowing that neither Elf would be able to resist the offer. "You take that money and leave Denerim tonight. No repercussions, you can go where you like."

"What about the other women?" The Elf woman snapped back almost before he had finished speaking.

Vaughn paused for a moment before answering. "The women stay. They'll go home tomorrow, slightly worse for ware, but by then you'll be long gone. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

Killean paused considering the human's offer, even if she was willing to leave Shianni and the others to their fates, could she really leave, never see her father, Shianni, again, to live in exile. While this human, this Shem, stayed in the comfort of his palace. She couldn't do it, wouldn't do it!

"Soris, you ready?" She asked quietly, the young man knowing what she meant just nodded. He was ready to fight, and die if needs be, for they would not leave the girls to their fate.

Steeling herself for what was to come, and in part wishing for the numbness, or even the rage to hide behind, Killean met the human Lord's eyes. "No deal."

Vaughn scoffed. "I always regret talking to knife-ears! Now I'll just gut your ignorant carcases instead!" He drew his sword, his men did the same, and the fight was on.

Killean's first arrow hit Vaughn's retainer square on, piercing his elaborately embroidered tunic and burying its self into his chest, and the human tumbled to the floor coughing up blood. Soris had met the other man and began trading blows. The fiery Elf had no chance to go to Soris aid as Vaughn closed on her with a speed beguiled by his size.

Killean dodged a swipe of the Lord's sword and lashed out with the stave of her bow, catching him in the crotch. As the human doubled over in pain Killean nocked another arrow and let fly toward Soris' attacker. The Human saw it coming and dodged the arrow, but it gave Soris his opening and he lashed out with Duncan's sword, opening the human's throat in a wash of blood.

The human Lord pushed himself off the floor and rushed Killean catching her off guard and grabbing her about the waist lifting her into a bear hug. The Elf beat her hands against his burly shoulders to little avail as the human bore her backward.

Killean fought in a blind panic, her bow lost somewhere along the way as she kicked and beat at the human that had hold of her. It was to no avail as the wretched man leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. The words died in his throat as she sank her teeth into his unprotected neck.

Vaughn pulled back in surprise dropping the read-head Elf to the floor clamping his hand over the wound in his neck. Killean spat blood onto the floor and glared up through the veil of hair that had fallen into her face, daring him to make the next move.

His eyes flicked to his sword, lying on the floor between them. Her eyes followed before snapping back his daring him to go for it. After a moment's hesitation Vaughn lunged reaching out for his sword. Simultaneously Killean lunged toward sword her dagger in her hand, hoping the strange power within the weapon work as she suspected.

As Vaugns hand closed about the weapon Killean slapped the flat of her mother's dagger down on the blade, there was a clap of thunder and lightning chased down the sword toward the Arl's son. Vaughn flinched and was thrown away from his weapon. The young Elf was hard on his heels wielding the knife.

The heavy human reacted just in time to block a swipe of the Elvan woman's knife, catching her wrists and twisting the knife from her grip, before giving her a backhanded blow across the face that sent her reeling.

Vaughn pushed himself to his feet shaking off the after effects of the lightning strike as he advanced toward the prone Elf. Killean kicked out with both feet catching the Lord in the knee sending the human sprawling to the floor as his leg gave way. Cursing the young Lord struck the Elf across the face again, then closed his fingers around her neck.

Killean struggled for breath , her hands franticly scrabbling at the floor around her. She searched franticly for some sort of weapon as darkness started to creep on at the edge of her vision. As the colour started to fade from the world her fingers closed around the wooden shaft of a fallen arrow. Knowing it was her last chance she secured her grip on the arrow and stabbed it into the side of the human's neck and twisted. The pressure around her throat lessened, and with all of her returning strength pushed Vaughn of her. The human, well past fighting, thrashed on the floor clutching at the broken end of the arrow that was protruding from his neck.

Soris helped his cousin up to her feet and handed her, her weapons. Killean, still breathing heavily pushed away from Soris and approached the burly human.

Vaughn tried to rise but Killean struck him back down. Soris watched as his cousin knelt beside the Human Lord, and pulled the knife from her belt. She whispered something in his ear and there was a clap of thunder as she shoved the knife into his side. And with that the fight was over.

Shianni felt someone over her, she prayed it was not Vaughn; she could not deal with him again so soon. And hadn't she heard Killean's voice just now? What if Vaughn had killed her? She opened her eyes. Killean looked down at her, locks of her crimson hair falling into her face.

"Don't leave." Shianni stammered. "Please, please." She felt tears well up in her eyes, as the younger Elf took her in her arms. "Take me home." She sobbed as Killean held her close, murmuring comforting nothings into her hair.

"So much blood." Shianni wailed. "I can't stand to look at it. It's everywhere." Then she broke down again. After a time she stopped sobbing, and pulled back to look into the younger Elf's face. "You did it, you killed them all didn't you?" She searched Killean's eyes as she spoke.

Killean shook her head. "It was necessary. Evil, but necessary."

Shianni watched her quietly for a moment. "No, what you did was a good thing." But somehow Killean couldn't meet her eyes.

The moment might have become awkward had Soris not returned with the other women, he paused looking down at the pair of Elves.

"Is she going to be alright?" He asked.

"We should get out of here." Killean brushed him off and helped Shianni up.

Soris nodded. "Ok, I'll take rear guard. I can't wait to see the back of this place."

By the time they got back to the Alienage Shianni was able to wake under her own power, while Soris and his bride seemed to have become closer. Killean silently envied them that.

Valendros and Duncan were waiting for them at the entrance to the Alienage.

"You have returned." Valendros sounded relived, then he saw Shainni and his eyes widened. "Has Shianni been hurt? And where is Tormey's daughter Aylessa?"

Killean averted her eyes, tears brimming again. Fortunately Valora stepped forward.

"She didn't make it. She resisted and…" Soris bride chocked before she could finish, and fell back into her betrothed's waiting arms.

"They killed her." Soris finished for her. "And Nelaros too. The guards killed him."

During the recounting Killean stayed quiet with her head bowed.

"I see." Valendros bowed his head in concession. "Would the rest of you ladies please take Shianni home? She needs her rest."

The young women nodded in acquiescence and led Shianni away, leaving Soris and Killean facing Valendros and the placid Duncan.

The Elder waited until the others were out of earshot, leaving them isolated and alone before he spoke next. "Now tell me: What happened?"

Killean scrubbed her hands over her face and looked down at herself. Her clothes, such as they were, were covered in dried and drying blood. Oh Maker, how was she going to explain this? They would think her a monster. They'd throw her out, banish her! Scrubbing her hands across her face again she looked up and met Valendros' eyes.

Finally, she spoke. And in a torrent of emotion and anguish she told them everything.

"The garrison could already be on the way." Duncan said when she had finished her recounting of their adventures within the Arl's estate. "We have little time." His voice took on an almost pensive note.

Killean looked over to the human for the first time. But what could she do. She hadn't thought this far ahead, she had not considered the repercussions. Just acted without thinking at all, damn her.

"What should I do?" She asked plaintively.

Before Duncan could answer the cry went up from a group of young Elves at the gate that the city guard were coming. Killean's gaze darted back and forth as she began to panic. Could she fight them all, she and Soris were fairly good fighters, their experience within the Arl's estate had proven that, and Duncan, Duncan was a warden, surly he could fight, she was still holding the beautiful, deadly bow she had taken from the armoury and her left hand moved toward the knife. But if she fought, she might lose and then the whole alienage might be destroyed, everyone could die, for her mistake. Her short-sightedness!

Duncan's voice intruded on her panic. "Don't panic, let's see what comes of this."

"I seek Valendros, administrator of this Alienage." The Guard Captain, distinguishable by his more ornate helmet, called as he and his men descended the short row of steps into the walled community.

"Here captain." Valendros replied. "I take it you have come in response to today's disruption?"

"Don't play ignorant with me Elder." The Guard Captain snapped. "You will not prevent justice from being done."

Killean's hand moved toward her dagger, but the Warden's fingers closed about her wrist arresting her movement, she looked up and him and he just shook his head.

"The Arl's son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palace!" The guard raised his voice so all could hear, and turn to look. Most saw Killean's state and immediately jumped to judgement. "I need names and I need them now!"

Killean rubbed her fingers along the intricate scrolling that adorned the handle of her bow, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Stepping forward she spoke loudly and clearly, her clarion voice ringing out across the alienage. "It was my doing."

And her life was over. She would never be allowed to live, and even if she were it would be at the bottom of some dark pit, never allowed to see the sun, see beauty, again.

The captain looked at her, almost scornfully. "You expect me to believe one woman did all of that?"

"We are not all so helpless Captain." Valendros retorted.

The Captain, an older fatherly looking gentleman with a large iron grey beard turned to face the small Elvan woman, still soaked in blood. "You save many by coming forward." He said as though proud of her. "I don't envy your fate, but I applaud your courage."

Killean just stayed still and quiet, her head down, and wished that it all be over.

The captain turned back to the gathering of Elves that had built up around them and began the formal pronouncement of arrest.

He was almost finished when Duncan, the Warden, interrupted. "Captain. A word if you please."

"What is it Grey Warden." The Guard Captain snapped, obviously riled at being interrupted. "As you can well see, we have everything under control here."

"Be that as it may." Duncan nodded concession to the captain before continuing in a more formal tone. "I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I remove the woman into my custody."

Killean's head snapped up toward the Warden. "You can do that?"

The captain sighed and cursed. "Very well Grey Warden; I cannot challenge your rights, but I'd ask one thing of you: Get this Elf out of the city. Today."

Duncan agreed and the Captain ordered his troops back to the city proper muttering something about having to be ready when the dung started flying.

When they were gone Duncan turned to Killean. "Your with me now, we should leave as soon as possible."

Killean looked down at her ruined clothes and before she could speak the Warden nodded.

"Go quickly, get cleaned up, collect any belongings you wish to bring and say your goodbyes, I shall be waiting here when you are done."

Killean nodded, but couldn't bring herself to thank him. He was taking her away from everything she knew, everyone she loved.

"But, what will happen here now?" She asked.

"For the moment they are fine, there are far more important matters arising that endanger more than just your people. We need all the Wardens we can get for what is coming, that conscripting you saved your life is merely circumstance. What you did escaping from the Arl's palace shows grate skill, both in battle and leadership, you will need those skills in the battles ahead, we will all need them. Now go do what you must quickly, your life hear is over."

Killean nodded and turned to go.

As she crossed the Alienage back to her father's house, for the last time, Killean heard running footsteps, and then Soris caught her arm.

"Thank you cousin. You really saved my life back there."

She forced a smile. "I was nothing." Then looking to change the subject. "What will you do now?"

"No more daydreaming. I'm settling down. Velora's a good woman, and she has ideas on making life better for everyone here." He paused thinking. "Your father had the women take Shianni back to your place; will you see her before you go?"

Killean nodded. "Yes, of course, I don't think she'd forgive me otherwise."

"Good luck cousin. You've been my hero since we were kids, it's just official now." With that he pulled her into a bone crushing hug before going back to his wife, and his new life, leaving her to her own path.

Back at her family's home Killean nocked hesitantly at the door, not sure what her father's reaction would be to her news.

The door opened and Cyrion beamed at his daughter. "If this is what the maker has planned for you, then I guess it's for the best." The smile faltered. "Your mother would have been pleased."

"I wish I could have known her more." Killean said stepping into his embrace.

"So do I darling, so do I." He pulled back to look her in face. "Make you're beautiful, you look just like her you know? Anyway take care my girl, be safe, and wise, and… well you know. We'll all miss you."

"I'll miss you too father." She pulled him back into the embrace knowing she was soiling his clothing but not caring.

In the house, which was no longer her home, Killean cleaned herself up and changed into homespun traveling trousers, and a heavy leather jacket modelled after some of the armours human guards wore. Belts crossed her back and waist from which she could hang weapons and pouches. Her mother's dagger was sheathed at her waist and the bow and quiver hung from straps across her back and shoulders. One last item, the ring Nelaros had given her for their arrested wedding, she tucked into a pouch at her waist.

When she was done Velora approached her, almost in awe at the woman she had become.

"There you are." She greeted, getting over her trepidation and pulling Killean into a hug. "I am so grateful. Thank you for me, for Soris, for everything."

Killean smiled at the older Elf woman. "Be good to Soris."

"Oh of course." She blustered. "If I can ever do anything to repay you I will." She gestured to the back room. "Shianni seems to have regained herself, I'll leave you two alone. Good luck, and thank you gain."

With that Velora left the two Cousins alone.

Shiani pulled herself up and out of the bed to greet Killean.

"You took all the responsibility for what happened. You're amazing you know that?"

Killean shook her head embarrassed. "How are you holding up anyway?"

"I'm alright." She replied in a more subdued tone. "As far as the others know Vaughn just roughed me up a bit." Tears sprang unbidden to her cheeks. "I just don't want the others treating me like some fragile doll." She pulled Killean into another bone crushing embrace. "I love you cousin. Make us proud out there."

"I will, and I love you too Shianni." Killean bade her final farewell before heading back to the warden and her new life.

The Grey Warden and his new charge travelled first east along the West Road toward the small Town of Lothering. After half a day's traveling on foot they met up with a wagon train, and Duncan bartered for them to ride in one of the carriages.

The pair had walked in silence, only talking when Duncan gave her directions. It was nearing dusk as they rode in back of one of the carriages, and Killean was playing with her mother's knife, taking some measure of comfort from the odd tingling.

"That was your mother's wasn't it?" Duncan asked almost from nowhere.

"Yes." She admitted. "How did you? Did you know my mother?" What was she like?"

"Yes I knew your mother for a time when she was younger, before she met Cyrlon. But that's a story for another time." The warden replied, looking up from his musings. "May I the blade?"

The young Elf gave him a suspicious look, but passed the weapon over, the curved blade glinting in the light from the hanging lamp.

"This blade is elven made, it's called a Dar'Misu." He explained turning the razor sharp crescent so it caught the light. As the lamp light played along the blade Killean saw the runes she had noticed carved into the base of the blade.

"What is that carving?" She asked pointing to the markings. "Some sort of message?"

Duncan turned the blade to face him and squinted his small eyes trying to make out the rune.

"They appear to be runes." He said after a moment. "Have you noticed and strange effects when you use the weapon?"

Her eyes widened at the revelation and she explained to the intent warden about the tingling when she held the blade, the thunder and lightning when she struck with it, and the increased perception when she held the blade.

"It's the runes." He explained. "This one." He pointed to one of the small markings. "Is a lightning rune, finely carved by the look of it. It is probably this that causes the tingling sensation, and what causes the lightning when you strike with the blade. The other." He gestured again. "Is for dexterity and agility, it will affect you when you hold the blade."

Killean was enthralled by the explanation. "Wow, that's amazing. What are runes?"

"The runic art was first discovered by the Dwarves." He began settling back against a gran sack and closing his eyes, he didn't speak for a moment and Killean wondered if he had fallen asleep, she was about to prompt him when he spoke again without opening his eyes. "You know the dwarves mine Lyrium for the Circle don't you?"

She nodded. The Dwarves were supposed to have some part of immunity to the sanity robbing effects of the dust, and were the only ones with the skills to mine and process it into the dust that the Mages used for their potions. Realising the reclining warden couldn't see her she vocalised her knowledge, and waited for the Warden to carry on.

"Some of the Dwarves, either through accident, or perhaps by design, were exposed to large quantities of the unrefined powder. This had some rather odd side effects, the least of which being insanity. But they had some measure of power, and were able to craft some of their power into blades through the use of carved runes."

"Thank you." Killean said, not realising until that moment how much she wanted his approval, and conversation.

The cart rumbled to a stop, as the sun hung, a glowing red orb, just above the horizon, and the driver called for them to make camp.

Over the camp fire the Merchants regaled the Wardens with stories of their adventures, as well as pressing Duncan for stories of his own, which the older Warden brushed off.

After everyone else was in asleep the elder Warden turned to Killean who was sat huddled by the fire hugging her knees with one hand, the other idly poking the fire with a short stick.

Duncan walked quietly over and dropped down next to the young Elf. She had been quiet throughout the evening meal and had seemed closed off since leaving Denerim. It was, of course, understandable. Her whole life had been turned upside down in less than a day. Only two days before she had been preparing to marry, and now she was a Grey Warden without a home or family.

"Killean?" He asked quietly

"Sorry." She said pushing a strand of hair from her face as she turned to look at him. The firelight brought out the copper highlights in her hair and cast soft flickering shadows over her face. "I guess I just miss the Alienage."

"It's ok." He said putting his hand on her back comfortingly. "You have an aptitude for archery?" He looked down at the high quality bow that sat between them.

"Yes." She replied. "My mother taught me when I was little." Her eyes dropped to the bow. "Although I've never used a bow as nice as this one."

"It is a fine example." He agreed. "If you like tomorrow I'll teach you how to make your own arrows. It's a skill you will need."

Her eyes widened, it seems the nicest thing anyone had offered to do for her in ages.

The following day, true to his word Duncan taught her to cut goose feathers, left over from their dinner to the right size and shape, and then to bind them to the whittled ash shafts. Without a smith to make arrowheads they were unable to put proper points on but made do with sharpening the ends. While they worked he gave her tutelage on maintaining the bow its self, and fighting with a blade the whole while commenting on landmarks they passed.

After three days of travel they arrived at Lothering, where they parted from the caravan train. Duncan didn't waste any time and requisitioned a horse for their journey south, and after resupplying, Duncan had acquired Killean a backpack, which was filled with food and water for their journey, they set out on the Imperial Highway.

As they continued south toward the Wilds, the landscape began to chance, where the more northerly lands were painted in rich earthy browns, the further south they went the greyer the landscape became.

Finally after half a day's ride Killean asked where they were headed.

"Ostagar." Duncan replied. "The Tevinter Imperium built Ostager long ago to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern Lowlands." He pointed to where the forte sat between two bluffs, bridging the small valley that connected the lowlands to the Wilds.

"It's fitting we make our stand here, even if we face a different foe within that forest." A tall ornate tower dominated the Eastern section of the forte.

"The King's forces have clashed with the Darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. This is where we will make our stand."

As though to punctuate the Warden's words thunder peeled over the fortress of Ostagar.


	2. TWO: Ostagar

TWO: OSTAGAR

Killean was in awe at the scale of the defences the mountain Fortress offered, and the number of people who milled about within those defences. Their horse, tired and steaming with sweat had been taken by a young stable hand within the Kings camp, leaving them to walk the rest of the way into the Fortress proper. Once inside Killean was amazed at the bustle of people, even on market day the Denerim Alienage had never been so busy, and everyone seemed to be wearing different liveries, many of them bright and inviting.

Duncan moved like an implacable force leading her through the throng of people.

"There are only a few Grey Wardens within Fereldan at the moment, but we are all here." He explained as the pair left the eastern Fortifications onto the wide bridge that spanned the valley bellow and linked the eastern Fortification with the western ones. The bridge was sided by low, knee high retaining walls that would do little to stop a fall; but, Killean supposed, made it easier for throwing one's foe down to valley floor hundreds of feet below.

"This Blight must be stopped here and now." Duncan said as they came to the western end of the bridge. "If it spreads to the north Fereldan will fall."

Killean was about to make some smart retort to Duncan's doom saying but was stopped by the approach of a figure, he was tall, taller than Duncan even, burly figure, garbed in bright gold armour, with a mane of blond hair, and a huge great-sword strapped across his back.

"Ho there Duncan!" The stranger greeted. Killean had the strangest feeling she had seen him, or at least the armour before, but for the life of her, could not remember where.

"King Kalen." Dunan greeted, clasping the burly King's armoured forearm in greeting. "I did not expect…"

"A royal welcome?" The King finished. Killean was gobsmacked; the King of Fereldan was there, right in front of her, large as life and twice as real some would say.

"I was beginning to worry if you'd miss all the fun!" The King said joviality and mirth spilling from his face in equal measure.

"Not if I could help it your majesty." Duncan replied unflustered by the king's high mood.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!" The Kings smile broadened further. "The other Wardens tell me you've found a promising recruit. I take it this is she?" He asked his clear blue eyes falling, for the first time on Killean.

"Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty." Duncan said

The King interrupted The Warden again. "No need to be so formal, Duncan. We'll be shedding blood together after all." He extended a hand toward the young Elf. "Ho there friend! Might I know your name?"

Killean was taken aback by the jovial, informal nature of this introduction, and the joviality, and contempt with which he viewed the coming battle. She stood there a moment, not speaking, not even sure what to say. Finally realising he, the King, was waiting patiently for her response she introduced herself as politely as she was able.

"Pleased to meet you!" The king boomed, taking her hand and giving it a vigorous shake. "The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them." He paused to take Killean in for a moment. "I see you are an Elf young friend, from where do you hail?"

Killean bit back a sarcastic retort and told him she was from Denerim.

"As do I!" The King blustered seemingly happy to make a connection with the young woman. "Though I've not been to the palace for some time. Do you come from the Alienage?"

"Tell me how it is there. My guards all but forbid me from going in there."

Killean didn't quite know how to respond, there were several answers she could have given, that, while true, this man, this human who seemed to want to befriend her despite her heritage, didn't deserve. Finaly she settled with a counter question.

"You have no idea how bad it is in there, do you?"

The King looked shocked and appalled; he tried to reply several times but seemed as though at a loss for words.

"Your majesty." Duncan saved the King by interrupting. "There are events in Denerim you should be made aware of."

"So it seems." The King replied. "I will hear more about this matter later. For now, we have a war to attend to." He turned back to Killean. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly from having you in their ranks."

Killean mumbled some supplication bowing politely to the King.

"I'm sorry to cut this short." The King turned to leave. "But I should return to my tent Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies."

"Your uncle sends his greetings." Duncan said keeping pace with the retreating King. "And reminds you Redcliffe forces could be here within the week."

The King scoffed. "Eamon just wants in on the glory, we've won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow should be no different. I'm not even sure if this is a true Blight, there are plenty of Darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen on sign of an Archdeamon."

"Disappointed your majesty." Duncan jibed.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tails!" The King said as they walked through the ruined walls into the western camp proper. "A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god! But I suppose this will have to do." By this point they had reached the highly decorated tent of the King. "Now I must go before Loghain sends out a search party." With that the King of Fereldan breezed into his tent leaving the two wardens.

Killean still slightly in awe of the camp and its populace followed Duncan over to a where someone had a roaring fire going, as the pair crossed the camp they got many side long looks from other camp members, weather this was because they were wardens, or because of Killean's Elvan heritage she did not know, perhaps it was both. They descended a short flight of stairs

"What the King said is true." Duncan admitted. "They've won several battles against the Darkspawn here already."

"You don't sound very assured." Killean replied, as the passed the ruin of an archway.

"True." Duncan conceded. "But the Darkspawn horde grows larger with every passing day. By now they look to outnumber us." The pair stopped in the middle of what had become a thoroughfare, between a Mage encampment and a blacksmith who was hawking his wears.

"I know there is an Archeamon behind this." Duncan insisted, drawing some odd looks from passing retainers. "But I cannot ask the King to act solely on my feeling."

"Why not?" Killean asked. "The King seems to hold the Wardens in high regard, it wouldn't take much convincing."

"Maybe." Duncan nodded. "But we are few in number, we must do what we can and look to Tyrn Loghain to make up the rest. And he would not be so easily convinced."

Killean nodded, conceding the point.

"We should proceed with the joining ritual as soon as possible, defiantly before nightfall." Duncan glanced up to where the midday sun peered through the remnants of the thunderhead that had rolled up as the pair had arrived.

Killean was surprised, in all their conversations, and all his stories, he had made little mention of the joining, and what he had said was cryptic and guarded, more oft than not leaving her with more questions than answers. "What do you need me to do?" She asked.

"We have some time given to us yet." Duncan said moving away from the thoroughfare to where someone had built up and lit a huge signal fire, the flames reaching almost up to the skeletal remains of what had once been a high vaulted ceiling. "You have leave to explore and camp some. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair, I suggest you seek him out and tell him it's time to summon the other recruts."

Killean gave the older Warden a respectful bow before backing away from the heat of the roaring fire.

Back toward the centre of the camp, Killean found herself completely turned about, marvelling at the gaily coloured tents, she was amazed that a military camp could be so vibrant a place. Then she caught sight of the Smith she and Duncan had passed on their way in, thinking to ask directions she approached the bearded man.

"There you are at last." The Smith snapped. "Why are you wearing that armour? Take it off right away!"

Killean was taken aback by the abruptness of the small human; did he think she was a slave or something? Before she knew what was happening her hand reached for the knife at her belt stepping toward the human. Realising what she was doing the fiery Elf arrested her motion and with an indignant tilt of her chin addressed the human smith.

"Excuse me sir?"

"What?" The man looked up from the chest plate he was beating out against his smaller travel sized anvil. "Oh sorry I thought you were the errand girl they gave me. Damn Elves, they all look the same to me. You haven't seen a read haired Elf running about here have you?"

Killean gritted her teeth at his derogatory comments levelled toward Elves; first he mistakes her for his slave, and then goes on about Elves as though she was not one herself. It occurred to her that Nessa's family was supposed to be joining the military camps, is this the life they could be expected to injure? Treated no better than slaves?

"I am sorry good sir." She replied levelly trying to keep her temper. "I have not seen your Assistant."

The man scoffed. "Assistant? That's a good one!"

Killean's hand moved back toward the knife. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?" She pushed out through clenched teeth.

"Damn lot of good she is." He said descending back into a diatribe about the uselessness of Elves in general. Killean would have been quite happy to put an end to his apparent misery when Slender, soft skinned, fingers clamped on her arm.

"Yung lady." The soft culture voice said from behind her. "You're Duncan's newest recruit, are you not?" Killean turned to see the hand was attached to an arm garbed in embroidered brown Chantry robe. "He is not a man easily impressed. You should be proud." She sounded impressed herself.

"Allow me to introduce myself." The Mage continued. "I am Wynne, one of the Mages summoned by the King."

Killean had without realising it allowed herself to be lead away from the travelling smith.

"Please to meet you." Killean greeted the other with a polite incline of her head.

"Well met, and good luck to you on the battle field." Wynne replied. "Good luck to us all in fact."

"Will you be fighting in the battle then?" Killean asked intrigued, she had heard of Mages being able to call down devastating and powerful magics to smite their foes, something like that would be quite a sight.

"Not Exactly." Wynne said supressing a smile, Killean thought was probably on her account. "The Grey Wardens will be on the front lines, not the Mages. Still we have our parts to play." She paused to survey the bustling camp. "To defeat the Darkspawn we have to work together. It's not an idea everyone seems able to grasp."

By this point the pair were walking back toward an array of ornate midnight blue tents.

"Do you know much of the Darkspawn then?" Asked Killean.

"Do you?" The Mage replied cryptically. "Do you know about the connection between them and The Fade for example?"

Wynne lowered herself onto a stone bench that might have at one time been a wall, in the shade of a large tree now growing up through the ruins. Not for the first time Killean wondered what this grate Forte would have looked like in its hay day.

Joining Wynne on the bench Killean raked her brains for what she knew of the Fade; a spirit realm beyond that of the living, only accessible by Mages. She told Wynne this much.

"Sort of." The elderly Mage replied. "Any time your spirit leaves your earthly body, be it to dream, or to die, it passes into the realm that we call The Fade. It's home to many spirits; some benevolent, some far less so." Killean noted how the Mage stopped short of calling them out right evil. "At the heart of the fade lies the black city." Wynne added.

Killean waited a moment for Wynne to continue, but when she did not, her piercing grey blue eyes remaining on the Elf girl, Killean assumed she was waiting for some input on Killean's behalf. She dutifully asked the wise old woman what the Black City was.

"Some say the Black City was once the seat of the Maker, a Golden city. But when the Mages of the Tevinter Imperium found a way into the city it was tainted with their sin. That taint transformed those men, transforming them into twisted reflections of their own hearts, and the Maker cast them back to the earth where they became the first Darkspawn."

Killean sat looking into space for a moment, not knowing what to think of the old woman's story, was it just that, an allegory on the suffering caused by our own evil, or was it true? Could the Darkspawn just be those that fell from grace?

"You probably have better things to be getting on with than to listen to the ramblings of an old lady." Wynne finally said.

This reminded Killean why she was here. "I'm looking for one of the Wardens, Alistair?"

Wynne's sculpted eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. "You seek Alistair?" She laughed, it was a good hearty laugh, better suited to taverns than fortifications. "I believe he is pestering Taron in the northern hall. That boy should learn subtlety if he wishes to remain a Warden around here."

Killean shot her a quizzical look, to which the Mage just laughed some more.

"Just wait until you meet him. That is if Taron hasn't fried him by now."

Shaking her head Killean bade the Mage farewell and headed north toward the remains of what once had been a great hall. It was still one of the largest standing structures on this side of the bridge with most of its walls intact, and only the roof missing.

Once inside she began looking for Alistair but realised she didn't know what the other Warden looked like, but thinking of what Wynne had said she followed the sounds of heated debated to a raised aria at the eastern end of the hall, where the walls had almost completely collapsed leaving it open to the weather, which was closing in again.

"What is it now?" Taron snapped. "Haven't Grey Wardens asked enough of the circle."

Alistair eyed the dark skinned Mage, his jaw already tight with tension. It wasn't like it was Alistair's fault that he had trained as a Templar, one of the knights employed and trained by the Chantry to hunt down Apostates, or rouge Mages; come to think of it, he had never actually had a chance to finish said training before Duncan drafted him into the Wardens. But still the title stuck and Mages seemed to recognise him as a Templar, even without knowing, and react in one of two ways, fear or anger, either generally led to shouting and, or burning, Alistair preferred the shouting.

"I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother." The Warden said giving the older Mage his most disarming smile. "She desires your presence."

The Mage spat on the ground at Alistair's feet, the young warden though that was a bit uncalled for, he was just the messenger, and couldn't help it if the old grump didn't want to hear it.

"What her reverence desires is of no concern to me." Taron snapped. "I am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the Kings instruction I might add!"

Alistair knew that was the moment a sensible person would call the job done and walk away. Alistair however had been called a lot of things in his time, but sensible was not one of them.

"Should I have asked her to write a note?" He quipped grinning at his own wit.

"Tell her." Taron growled. "I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes." Alistair said sarcastically. "I was harassing you by delivering a message."

Taron growled. "Your glibness dose you no credit."

"And here I thought we were getting along so well." Alistair let out a short bark of laughter at his own glib joke. "I was even going to name one of my children after you." He pressed forward. "The grumpy one!"

"Enough." Taron sighed. "I will speak to the woman if I must."

And with that the Mage turned and barged his way past a young Elf hunter down the ramp way that lead back into the great hall. His eyes stayed on the Elf girl, she was dressed in the heavy leathers of a hunter tight enough to leave little about the body beneath to the imagination.

"That's what I like about the Blight." He quipped to the newcomer, giving her his most charming smile and hoping she wasn't betrothed. "The way it brings people together."

The Elf cocked an eyebrow at him. "You are a very strange human." She said, with only a hint of scorn in her voice.

"You're not the first to tell me that." He quipped in reply shooting her a self-deprecating smile. "We haven't met yet have we?" He asked. "I don't suppose your another Mage?"

The Elf seemed taken aback by the question. "No. Why?" She asked frowning.

"Means less being yelled at for me." He grinned at her. "Although the day's still young."

The Elf shot him a rather condescending look, and that was when it clicked, she had to be the new recruit, the one Duncan was supposed to be bringing in, rumour had it she was an Elf from the Denerim Alienage. Apparently she had singlehandedly broken free of the Arl's prison and cut a bloody swathe through the Arl's estate before killing his first-born child in man-o-man, or man-o-woman, Alistair smirked at that, combat. He quickly apologised for not recognising her sooner, if they were to work together he would rather her not think he was the complete fool, at least not just yet anyway.

The young Elf looked puzzled, and demanded, in no uncertain terms, to know how it was that he recognised her.

"Duncan sent word." He explained. "He spoke quite highly of you. Allow me to introduce myself." He gave her a mock bow. "I'm Alistair the new Warden, although I guess you knew that." He went on to explain that as the most junior member of the order he would accompany her, and the other recruits in there preparations for the joining.

The pair started back down the ramp into the hall, and through there back into the central part of the keep.

As they walked the Elf introduced herself, to the young Warden.

Shortly they came upon the other two Warden recruits, who were lounging under a partially collapsed archway.

The first was a slim dark skinned man in fighting leathers adorned with light metal plating at the elbows and shoulders; he sported a pair of short swords with simple cord bound handles. He had lank dark hair and hawkish features, and gave Killean a most lecherous look while Alistair introduced him as Daveth.

The second recruit was taller, and wider, a great hulking bear of a man clad in grey splintmail armour with a huge great-sword hanging from his massive shoulders. Dispite his size, or perhaps because of it, he was a quiet, gentle man, gone almost completely bold. He was introduced as Ser Jory, and took the young Elf's and in a bone crunching grip, which he then apologised profusely for.

With all three of the recruits gathered they returned to Duncan who was seated by the grate fire, which was burning hot enough to keep the now steady rain off them. Seeing them arrive, Duncan pulled himself to his feet.

"You're all here now." He greeted. "I assume you are ready to begin preparations. That is if you have finished riling up Mages Alistair."

"What can I say?" Alistair shrugged. "The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army."

Duncan let out a long suffering sigh. "She forced you to sass the Mage did she?" He chastised the younger Warden. "We cannot afford to antagonise anyone Alistair. We don't need to give anyone any more ammunition against us."

Alistair bowed his head in penitence. "I apologise Duncan." His voice became quite serious for a moment.

"Now as you are all here we can begin." Duncan began, his eyes serious. "You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to preform two tasks." The fire cracked behind him making Jory jump. "The first is to retrieve three vials of Darkspawn blood, one for each recruit." He handed a small ornately carved glass vial to each of them. "As to the second: There was once a Grey Warden outpost abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. Alistair I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can."

With final words of advice to Alistair, and a prayer for the Maker to watch over them Duncan led them to the guard post at the southern entrance.

The Guard a tall lean man with a gaunt face beneath is simple leather helm let them pass at Duncan's instruction, and the four Grey Wardens descended the steep ramp through the fortifications into the desolation of the Wilds. Over head the sky was darkened by storm clouds heavy with rain.

The Korcari Wilds were a uniform grey, about the same colour as they sky which was starting to shed rainwater on them.

After a short descent from the Keep, they were into a swamp, narrow paths, dotted with scrubby grass, wound between pools of stagnant water. The skeletal remains of long dead buildings and trees protrude from the fetid waters, covered in lichen and moss.

Other trees, still alive hung low their branches almost scraping the Initiate Wardens' heads. The few leaves left on the branches were already turning brown, and most were slowly rotting into a slimy muck on the few patches of solid ground.

Killean swatted at the swarm of bugs that had descended on the party shortly after they had entered the swamp crinkling up her nose at the stench. Behind her Alistair was complaining about the smell. The wolves, mangy half-starved beasts leaped from a thicket just a head of the party teeth bared.

Daveth snarled back and, drawing his red steel short swords leaped toward the pack. Meanwhile Jory and Alistair closed ranks drawing their swords. Killean for her own part was not too proud to move behind the heavily armoured men. Jory called for Daveth to come back but the rouge ignored him and leaped for the closest wolf, burying his swords into the mangy animal's back before vaulting the wild animal and closing with the next.

Killean pulled her bow from her back and started firing arrows into the oncoming pack. Daveth's attack, while devastating cut a fairly linear path through the pack thus not thinning it out very much. Killean's arrows dropped several more before the wolves were on the two knights.

Jory's heavy great-sword swung in huge powerful arks shattering bone and cleaving flesh with each strike, while Alistair favoured more of a holding action, keeping the wolves off him with his shield while launching quick precise strikes, that while not as damaging as Jory's, were no less devastating. Killean for her own part popped out from behind the fighting men and let fly an arrow into one of the animals before ducking back.

Before long the party had finished the wolves and Daveth came sauntering over to where the others had held there more entrenched position.

"You guys finished?" He quipped.

Jory began lecturing the other initiate on the procedures of small group combat and teamwork. While Daveth just rolled his eyes and made smart-alec comments until the pair were just bickering. Killean was tempted to just shoot them both, beside her Alistair tutted and made several snide remarks under his breath, which made Killean chuckle as the pair moved further up the path, past the corpses of the wolves. Killean reclaimed several of her arrows and wiped them down on a scrap of cloth. The other two followed them their argument petering out.

As they rounded a bend in the path the path took them past a tree which had fallen onto the remains of some sort of structure that was not little more than crumbling walls.

Before they passed the remains, which were slowly sinking into the swamp, Killean caught the scent of fresh blood over the stench of the swamp, she was about to catch Alistair's attention to warn him when a dead horse came into view.

Killean almost wretched at the sight of the butchered animals, for there were several, it looked like little more than piles of butchered meat. Then she started to make out forms, human forms: a leather clad arm here, a head there. She tried to close her eyes against it. But it didn't work; suddenly she was back in Earl How's dungeon as Alyssa bled onto her wedding dress.

The lithe Elf sprinted for a scrubby bush by one of the ever present pools of stagnant water before losing what little lunch she had eaten on the way to Ostagar, onto the poor bush.

"Looks lie our little Elf doesn't have the stomach for this sort of work." Daveth mocked. "Don't worry, just go back to camp and let us men deal with the Darkspawn."

Killean rounded on lank rouge her hand going for the dagger at her belt. So help her! This egocentric, womanising, disgusting human was going to die.

"Calm down!" Alistair said grabbing the young Elf by the arms to hold her back. "And you, show some respect! If not for her then for the dead."

He handed Killean a flask from his pack. Turning away from the others, from Daveth, she took a swing of the cold, clean water and used it rinse out her mouth before sipping some more to calm her stomach.

She thanked the young Warden handing him back the flask, shooting the Rouge a very dirty look.

Jory, let out a startled screech leaping back his sword half out of its sheath. The others turned, both Daveth and Alistair had their weapons out and poised, Killean was half a beat behind, an arrow on her bow.

It moved again, the party moved to surround it their weapons at the ready. Killean's eyes widened. A human, badly wounded and wearing heavy leathers similar to Killean's that painted him as a scout or hunter. He was bleeding from several deep wounds, and was that a bite mark on his neck?

"Who… who are you?" Gasped the scout; clutching at his wounded side. "Grey Wardens?"

Killean started, she hadn't expected him to be that cognisant.

"He's not half as dead as he looks." Quipped Alistair.

Killean shot him a dark look, obviously his respect for the dead did quite extend to the wounded.

"My scouting band was attacked by Darkspawn. They came out of the ground." He stopped to hack blood onto the grass. "Please. Help me. I've got to return to camp."

Killean knelt next to the scout examining his wounds. "Have we got any medical supplies? Perhaps we should take him back to camp."

Jory backed away from the man and started nervously looking around his hands clenching his sword tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

"I've got some bandages in my pack." Alistair said kneeling to help the young Elf apply them.

The scout thanked them when it was done and staggered to his feet brushing off the Elf's help.

"I'll be able to make it back to camp ok now." He said stumbling back down the path. Killean's worries gaze following him.

"Did you hear?" Jory babbled. "A whole patrol of seasoned men; killed by Darkspawn!"

"Calm down Ser Jory." Alistair placed a comforting hand on the hulking recruit's shoulder. "We'll be fine if we're careful."

Jory was obviously not convinced. "But those soldiers were careful and they were still overwhelmed." He continued to panic. "How many Darkspawn can the four of us slay: a dozen, a hundred, a thousand? There's an entire army in these forests!"

"There are Darkspawn about but we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde." Alistair continued to reassure the burly man.

"How do you know?" Snapped the big knight. "I'm no coward. But this is foolish and reckless. We should go back."

"Don't be such a girl Jory!" Daveth mocked the big man. "We can take a few Darkspawn, and even if you can't I'll do it by myself, so you can run off home." Killean was quite ready to kill the womanising shem and have done with it.

Killean was about the give the slimy Daveth what for when Alistair spoke again.

"Know this: All Wardens can sense Darkspawn. Whatever their coming they won't take us by surprise. That's why I'm here" It seemed, to Killean, unusually serious and kind hearted of the young human knight.

"You see Ser Knight." Daveth joked. "We might die, but we'll be warned about it first." His grin vanished as Killean cracked him across the back of his unprotected head with her bow. If nothing else it made her feel better.

"Let's get a move on." Alistair said shooting the young Elf a conspiratorial look. "We need to get back before dark."

The rain had eased off somewhat and the party was making good time through the swamplands of the Wilds. Jory was becoming increasingly restless as time went on and they seemed no closer to a Darkspawn encounter and the completion of their quest.

They came out of the dying remains of the forest into a more open area, with low rise covered in scrubby bushes. Alistair, who had up until that point seemed quite relaxed, ignoring the arguments of Jory and Daveth, snapped his head up looking around, his hand moving nervously toward the hilt of his sword. He held up the other ordering them to hold.

"You sensing the Darkspawn now?" Daveth asked almost mocking.

The young Warden was about to snap a response, but was distracted further up the path. Seconds later there was a sound from the bushes. Jory shifted nervously while Daveth shifted his weight forward drawing his weapons.

A pair of Darkspawn stepped from the bushes. The creatures didn't quite live up to Killean's expectation of the horrific creatures of legend. They were diminutive with a sickly green skin pulled tight over deformed skulls and tusked snouts. They were clad in rough armour formed of metal plate and leather bands, with roughhewn helmets almost forced down over their pointed ears. Killean wondered if they were derived from Elves. The first bore a gnarled short sword with a heavy spiked pommel and a rough, bound wood shield. While the other held a vicious looking shortbow with heavily recurved limbs. The arrows in its quiver bore tattered black fletches.

Daveth, obviously shearing Killean's opinion of their opponents, let out a ferocious battle cry and charged forward, his twin blades held out and behind him, like a hunting bird in flight, his cloak billowing out behind him added to the illusion. Jory, probably having been goaded into action by the other man started forward as well.

Alistair barked a belated warning to the hasty rouge as he charged, but it was too late.

A trio of larger creatures, brown skinned and mostly human in shape wearing rough metal armour and bearing blackened longbows appeared on the rise, and opened fire.

The first arrow hit Daveth, transfixing his calf and pinning him to the ground. Jory stumbled to a halt, panicked, and franticly cast about looking for cover as three more of the larger more heavily armed Darkspawn leaped from the trees toward the startled men.

Alistair had pulled his shield from his back and hunkered down behind it as the archers atop the rise fired another flurry of arrows toward the quartet recruits. Killean, one again, sheltered behind the young Warden as badly aimed arrows hit the ground around them.

When Killean risked a glance past Alistair toward the battle Jory was fighting for his life against two of the hulking Darkspawn, while Daveth tried to free his impaled leg while keeping the other Darkspawn off him. The smaller archer creature had retreated up the rise for a better firing position.

Daveth's shortsword painted a web work of steel between him and his attackers as he blocked their attacks. Jory caught a downward sweep from a Darkspawn blade on his own and kicked out at the creature, in an attempt to gain space. But one of the others closed in on him lashing out with its sword. The big man managed to dodge the attack but it gave his first attacker a chance to close again.

Killean leaned out a fired an arrow catching the small greenish creature that was attacking Daveth. The arrow struck the diminutive creature between two pieces of chest armour sending it tumbling to the ground. She ducked back as she heard more arrows thunking into Alistair's shield.

"Can you take out the archers?" Alistair asked, as he started moving forward toward the outnumbered recruits.

Without answering the young Elf nocked another arrow and ducked out, she had just enough time to see her arrow strike the smaller archer, transfixing its neck, before she ducked back away from return fire from the larger ones. More arrows impacted on the young warden's shield and he urged her to hurry up and finish the archers.

Daveth had managed to free his leg and was limping back away from his attacker as the creature advanced toward him paying no heed to the arrows of his friends that flew past him trying to score another hit. One of Jorys attackers broke through the burly southerner's defences and struck him a glancing blow on the shoulder plate of his armour. The blow may not have broken the armour but the impact shook the man, and he almost lost his grip on his big sword.

With a cry Alistair broke and charged to the defence of the big man. Killean fired off two arrows in quick succession, the first hit the Darkspawn archer in the face and he tumbled down the rise, the second winged the other archer clipping his right arm as he was at full draw, sending the creatures own shot wide. She nocked another arrow and was about to fire when more of the larger Darkspawn crashed from the trees.

Killean turned and fired into the attackers, but the panicked shot went wide and before she could ready another shot the pair of Darkspawn were on her. One rushed past to take Daveth from behind while the other closed on her.

The sight of the creature shocked her, now here was the monstrous terror from legend. Its skin held a deathly parlour, and almost seemed to be rotting away from its skeleton, its eyes were filled with a dark hate, an empty darkness. Its mouth was packed with needle sharp teeth, more that it should have had, and dribbling a viscous spittle down onto its ruined chin. The sight of it turned Killean's blood to ice and froze her in place. The creature loomed over her and raised its sword.

The young Elf belatedly reached for the knife at her belt but it was too late, far too late as the sword descended toward her head.

There was a crashing in the bushes, followed by a howling, some detached part of Killean's mind wondered which would get her first, the wolf or the Darkspawn. A Huge shaggy form sailed over Killean and struck the Darkspawn with bone shattering force. Bearing the creature to the ground, its jaws locking around the Darkspawn's head crushing bone in its mighty grip.

The dog, having dispatched the Darkspawn, bounded up and began licking Killean's face. That was when she belatedly realised she was sitting down. That was when Alistair was stood over her offering her his hand.

Taking it she pulled herself to her feet. "What happened?" She asked.

"We walked right into their ambush." He shot Daveth a dirty look. "Looks like a couple more came up behind us. The dog." He gestured to the shaggy hound who was sat at Killean's feet. "Saved your life when he talked the Darkspawn." Alistair knelt down and gave the mangy beast a rub behind the ears. His expression became grave as he examined the dog. "Looks like he's swallowed a fair bit of blood."

"Is that bad?" Killean said dropping to thank the dog, his fur was surprisingly soft beneath her fingers, he looked up at her with deep soulful brown eyes his tail thumping on the ground.

"Darkspawn blood hols a taint, it will infect the poor animal and eventually kill him." The young Warden Explained.

"Is there nothing we can do to help him?" Killean said her hands still cradling the big dog's head.

"Put a sword in it." Daveth said scoffing.

"I've got a better idea." Alistair snapped. "We could put one in you!" He turned back to the young Elf. "There is a flower that grows near water that's supposed to provide an antidote to the taint."

"Well we're not sort of water around here." Daveth commented, the dog looked at him and bared its teeth.

It took Jory little convincing to help her look for the small white flower while Alistair bound Daveth's wounds. Killean was surprised that the big knight had only sustained minor cuts and abrasions. While they looked, he talked on merrily about is life in Highever; his wife who's portrait he carried with him, and his soon to be bourn child. She was pretty, in a wholesome, homily manner. The artist had her in rapture of something behind and just above the artist, her lips parted as blond locks blew about her face.

It was as Killean was handing the small portrait back to the big man that he spotted the small delicate white flower growing out of a fallen tree that was slowly, like everything else, sinking into the swamp.

With the flower in hand they returned to where the dog stood guard over Alistair and the injured Daveth. The young Warden instructed Killean to grind the petals of the flower into a pulp and feed it to the dog. This, Killean did without complaint; the dog seemed almost to like the extract licking his lips nosily when it was finished.

"That's all we can do to help him." Alistair said finishing the bandaging on the rouges lower leg. "We'll just have to see if he survives." Daveth look up at the young Warden a worried expression on his face.

"Not you." Alisrair explained. "The dog."

When they were done tending to their injuries Alistair led the others in the party over to where the bodies of the Darkspawn from the ambush were, they had just been left where they had fallen.

He explained that they must fill the glass vials that Duncan had given them with the blood of the Darkspawn, that it would be needed for The Joining. They each picked a corps and set to getting the blood.

Killean found herself crouched over the body of one of the smaller creatures, Alistair had called them Genlocks. It didn't look any better up close than it had at fifty yards. Sickly green skin pulled tight across a face and snout that was set in a permanent scowl, its myriad of needle sharp teeth and tusks bared at the young Elf. She swallowed, swearing to herself that she would not throw up again.

Closing her eyes Killean took a deep breath. It was a bad idea and the wretched stench of decaying flesh filled her lungs, coating the back of the throat and in the inside of her nose. She swallowed trying not to retch.

Putting off the inevitable the young Elf looked over to where Jory was crouched over the corpse of one of the larger Darkspawn, Alistair had called them Hurlocks, a kerchief held over his moth as he worked. She heard retching and looked over to see Daveth, who had plunged in head first as usual and was regretting it.

The lithe Elf turned back to her own corpse and gripped the small stubby knife Alistair had given her more tightly in her right hand, while in her left the ornately crafted glass vial. Alistair had loaned her the blade as the runes on her own would cause it to cauterise the wound before she could bleed the creature.

She looked down at the creature beneath her and realised she did not have the first clue where to begin.

There was supposed to be a big vein in the neck wasn't there? Vaughn had certainly bled enough when she had stabbed him in the neck. She tightened her grip on the vial and lowered the knife toward the creature's neck.

"No." Alistair was kneeling behind her; she had been so wrapped up in her task she hadn't noticed him approach. "Without a pulse you won't get enough blood from there. You want to enter below the centre of mass." He pointed to the creature's lower back and the joint between two armoured plates. "Go in here, about three knuckles down there's a big vein you'll get more than enough blood from there."

Following Alistair's guide she pushed the stubby knife into the creature's side, black ichor poured out of the creature's side over her fingers. Pulling her hand away she pushed the glass vial to the wound and watched as it filled with the black blood.

When she was finished, the dog ambled over and licked the ichor from her fingers and the outside of the vial.

Killean stood up to find the other men their holding up their own vials for comparison. Jory finished wiping his clean and held it up so it sparkled in the fading light. Daveth held his up still dripping ichor.

Alistair was walking around inspecting the vials. The windm which had been increasing over the past couple of minutes, whipped Killean's hair about her face.

She pushed her hair from her face, and said. "A storm's coming."

Duncan looked at the thickening clouds; it looked like a storm was coming. Averting his eyes from the sky and turned toward the richly appointed, royal blue tent of the king. As he approached the tent flap was drawn back by young retainer wearing Grey Iron armour emblazoned with the symbol of the king, raised voices came from within.

"This is foolish!" Loghain snapped banning his fist down on the small table. "You think to go into battle with only half an army!"

"But with the Grey Wardens on our side we cannot lose." The king replied. "Ho Duncan. I'm glad you could make it."

"Do you think a dozen Wardens will be enough to turn the tide of battle?" Loghain shook his head. "Your father would never be so foolish!"

Duncan shot him a look; they both remembered Maric, the old king, heading off with a band of Grey Wardens, including a young Duncan, on what most would have considered a fools quest.

"My decision is final." Kalen said in a tone that broached no argument. "I will stand by the Wardens during the battle."

Loghain ignoring the King's tone replied. "You risk too much Kalen. The Darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines." His own voice tired, as though this argument had been banded back and forth many a time, which in fact it had.

"If that's the case." The King snapped. "Then perhaps we should wait for the Orlaisian forces to join us after all."

"I must repeat my protests to you fool notion that we need the Orlaisian forced to defend ourselves." The Tyrne snapped, clearly becoming frustrated.

"It is not a fool notion." The King retorted. "Our arguments with the Orlaisians are a thing of the past. And you will remember who is King."

Duncan waited patiently as the pair finished their argument and turned back to the battle plans.

"Duncan." The King greeted noticing the waiting Warden for the first time. "Are your men ready for battle?"

"They are your majesty." Duncan replied bowing.

"Good." The King clapped Duncan on the shoulder. "The Wardens will play a pivotal role in battling this threat."

Loghain sighed. "Your fascination with legends and glory will be your undoing, we must attend to reality."

"Fine Loghain." The King conceded. "Speak your strategy." He leaned over the maps that were laid out on the table. "The Wardens and I draw the Darkspawn into charging our lines. And then?"

Duncan leaned in finally interested. While the arguments between King and Tyrne were a sport to rival the Tivintan Gladiatorial matches, they were somewhat of an aside to what was needed, the planning of strategy.

"Then." Loghain took over. "You will alert the tower to light the beacon, to alert my men to charge from cover, to flank the Darkspawn."

"Yes." The King said, turning to Duncan "This is why I wanted you here. All our lives count on that beacon being lit, I want you to send two of your wardens to the Tower of Ishal on the other side of the ruins and make sure the beacon is lit."

"You put too much trust in these Wardens." Loghain complained. "My men are perfectly capable of lighting the beacon."

Before the pair could get into another full-fledged argument Duncan interjected, suggesting the possibility of an Arhcdeamon appearing, Loghain assured him that no Dragons had been sighted in the wilds.

The tent flap was pulled aside once more and a tall heavyset mage with a shaven head and piercing blue eyes entered.

"There is no need for the tower, or the beacon my lord." The bald mage said. "The Circle of Mage…" He was cut off by one of the Chantry Mothers who began renouncing the power of the mages, before the y could get into any further discord Loghain stepped in finalising the plan, and with that Duncan was on his way, lest he get caught up in another argument.

The Warden keep was classic imperial architecture. A ring of outer pillars supporting the single spire of the keep. The spire was crumbling and mostly open to the weather now, although the first floor and stairway remained intact at somewhat of a jaunty angle, which was a testament to the Tivintan construction. While the surrounding columns jutted from the ground like great ribs. The structure was, of course, covered by Darkspawn.

There were a dozen of them, four Genlocks and two Hurlocks arrayed across the upper level, while a further three Genlocks and Hurlocks paOgreed the base, as they moved closer she saw another Darkspawn, this one was taller still than the Hurlocks, clad in rusty brown plate-mail.

The party were crouched in a small hollow beneath and behind a fallen tree at the base of the small hump that the remains of the keep sat upon.

Killean was surprised how quickly they had found the ruined structure, and even more surprised they hadn't encountered more Darkspawn. They had sat back trying to get the lay of the land and formulate a strategy to ensure this encounter went better than the last time.

There was a quartet of trees at the base of the hummock; they were laid out in a rough square, forming a sort of entrance, above this the grassy slope rose gently to the base of the tower. It was into this gateway Alistair jumped shield at the ready.

"Hey, ugly!" He cried to the Darkspawn around the tower. "Down here!"

His cry drew the attention of the paOgreing Darkspawn who charged down the hill toward him. At the last minute the young Warden stepped back drawing them out to allow Jory to hit their flank. The big knight slammed into the Darkspawn, his grate sword slashed downward almost cleaving the first Genlock in half. Alistair slammed his shield forward into the lead Hurlock knocking him down to allow Jory to strike it. After the initial attack had cancelled the momentum of the Darkspawn charge the human fighters sat back and dug in holding the Darkspawn. That was when Daveth struck, the rouge had managed to sneak around behind the attacking horde and now cut into them from behind.

During this Killean was left to deal with the archers. Her first shot took out one of the Hurlocks, and her second was on course to take out the other one but the creature dodged puling one of the Genlocks into the arrow's path. By this time the other three Genlocks had scattered for cover using the crumbling walls for cover. She fired off a couple of shots and scored a hit on the other Hurlock, the column did not offer as much protection as it had thought.

She ducked behind a huge dead tree as the remaining Genlocks returned fire. The rough arrows slammed into the trunk as she ducked back and dashed for the next tree the dog at her side, she reached down and gripped her mother's knife, pulling it from her belt, as the stumpy green creatures aimed at her again. The heightened agility the knife allowed her to pirouette out of the way of the first arrow, drawing the bow as she came back around. She took a beat to sight and loosed. The arrow slammed into the Genlock archer who had broken cover to shoot at her, and a second hit another of the squat creatures as it came up to fire at her. She was back behind another large tree trunk before the final creature could try its own luck. Sheathing the knife she nocked another arrow risking a glance around the tree. Before she could do anything to stop it the dog broke cover and charged the Genlock, the creature saw the hound coming and tried to fire at the shaggy dog but missed, and then the grate hound was on it jaws clamping down in a final strike.

Alistair lead the other two recruits up the hill toward the tower. They were halfway up when the Larger creature, the Alpha, charged them.

A sweep of its armoured forearm knocked Jory flying, Daveth dodged a swipe of its huge axe and came up behind the monster. Alistair barely managed to get his shield up in time to stop the return blow from taking his head.

Daveth came up behind the huge Darkspawn and whipped his blade toward a gap between the armour plates covering its back. The creature twisted ripping the short sword from the rouge's hand. Swivelling its helmeted head back toward the lank man it raised its huge axe to strike at the rouge.

The Arrow struck the creature in its unprotected underarm causing it to reel back. Jory came in bringing his great-sword down in a move intended to sunder the creature's arms. The Alpha saw it coming and moved to reduce the impact, the weight of the sword strike was still enough to disarm the creature. At the same moment Alistair slammed the sharp edge of his shield into the back of the creature's legs bringing it to its knees.

Killean paused in her descent of the hill to fire another arrow; it struck the creature in a shoulder joint burying its self into the huge creature.

Daveth stepped forward and thrust his second blade through the slit in the creature's helm.

The Party had little trouble reaching the first floor of the tower, or at least what remained of it, and it was there, along the back wall that the chest that was supposed to hold the ancient treaties was situated. Killean stood watch with Jory while the other two went to open the chest and retrieve the documents.

The two men were grunting trying to shift the debris that had the chest half buried when the slim figure stepped from the shadows.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" She said in a deep melodious cultured voice that caught their attention, their heads snapping round in unison.

"Are you a vulture I wonder?" Killean tracked the woman as she descended the sort flight of stairs that seemed to go nowhere. "Poking amidst a corps who's bones were long since cleaned?" She was tall and slim with pale skin raven dark hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head, which had a pair of blue feathers protruding from the top. Her long legs were covered by a tattered black skirt that brushed the stonework of the floor and rustled like leaves in the wind as she walked. Her top what there was of it was a rich burgundy and plunged from her shoulders into a perilously low neckline before billowing loosely out over full breasts, but not hanging low enough to obscure her navel, which had a black jem set into it.

This last undoubtedly drew Daveth's attention, while Killean, her arrow sill ready, was drawn to the roughly carved staff across her back.

"Or merely an intruder." The newcomer continued. "Come into the Darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey." She stopped in the middle of the stone shelf that formed the first floor and fixed Killean with pale gold eyes. "What say you, scavenger or intruder?"

"We are no intruders." Snapped Alistair. "This tower and all within belongs to the Grey Wardens."

"'tis a tower no longer. The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." As she spoke her attention wandered back to the Elf. "I have watched your progress for some time. Where do they go? I wondered. Why are they here? And now you disturb ashes none has touched for so long. Why is that?" While she had been talking she had made her way toward the edge of the platform, until as she said the last she was looking out over the swamp.

"Don't answer." Alistair warned moving protectively up beside Killean. "She looked chastened, and that means there might be others nearby."

The dark haired woman turned to Alistair. "You fear barbarians might swoop down at any moment?" She mocked.

"Yes swooping is bad." The warden muttered.

"She's a Witch of the wilds she is." Daveth said shifting his weight from foot to foot as though about to run for it. "She'll turn us into toads she will."

"Witch of the Wilds?" The woman chuckled. "Idle legends those. Have you no minds of your own?"

"You there." She addressed Killean. "Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Shaking of Alistair's warning she gave her name.

"And I," Replied the newcomer. "Am Morrigan. Shall I guess your porpoise? You sought something in that chest? Something that is here no longer?"

"Here no longer?" Snapped Alistair, Killean was surprised how quickly he was becoming riled up. "You stole them didn't you? You're some kind of sneaky witch-thefe!"

"How very eloquent." Morrigan replied her voice remaining calm. "How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily it seems." Retored Alistair. "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them."

"I will not." Morrigan snapped. "For 'twas not I that removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish. I am not frightened."

Killean put a restraining had on Alistair's shoulder quieting him. "Who then, did remove them?" She asked.

"'twas in fact my mother." The witch replied courteously.

"Can you take us to her?" Asked Killean.

"Now that is a sensible request. I like you." The witch replied.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "I'd be careful." He warned. "First is 'I like you' then, zap, frog time."

Daveth continued to bather but Jorry clapped him on the back to quiet him obviously enjoying the role reversal.

"Follow me then if it pleases you." With that Morrigan jumped from the tower to the swamp floor below.

The four Wardens followed the witch to a small ramshackle hut nestled in a dell between two small hummocks of land and surrounded by tall scrubby weeds.

As they approached a wizened old lady wrapped in a simple brown shawl emerged from within the small building.

"Greetings mother!" Morrigan called. "I bring you four Grey Wardens who…"

"I see them girl!" The elderly woman snapped in impatiens. "Much as I expected."

"Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?" Alistair asked mocking.

"You are required to do nothing." Retorted the elder witch. "Least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight, or open one's arms wide, either way one is a fool."

There was a whispering from behind Killean. "She a witch, we shouldn't be talking to her." Daveth said.

"Quiet Daveth." Jory chastised. "If she's relay a witch do you want to make her mad?"

"There's a smart lad." The elderly witch said, addressing the knight. "Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but 'tis no I that decides. Believe what you will." She turned to face Killean who was stood silently clutching her bow. "And what of you? Dose youre Elvan mind give you a different viewpoint? What do you believe?"

Killean stopped for a moment not sure how to answer, not even quite sure what the question was, not really. She had heard of people like this before, normally roving traders who would tie you up with turn of phrase until you had signed half your life away without realising it.

"I believe." She started, and then faltered. "I believe, that. I'm not sure what I believe." She finally finished shaking her head.

The witch smiled. "Now there's a statement with more insight than you'd give it credit." She paused for a moment as though thinking before continuing. "Be always aware. Or is it oblivious? I can't remember." She reached out and took Killean's hand, after a moment's inspection she looked up meeting Killean's eyes with her own golden ones, twins of Morrigan's "So much about you is uncertain." She finally said. "I believe, do I? Why it seems I do."

Killean pulled her hand away in shock at the witch's madness.

"So this is a dreaded witch of the wilds." Alistair mocked.

"Witch of the wilds?" Asked the elderly woman, laughing. "Morrigan must have told you that, she fancies such tails. Although she would never admit it."

Behind the older witch Morigan hung her head in embarrassment. "They did not come to listen to your wild tails mother."

"True." The older woman snapped back to brusque business-like manner like the stave of a bow. "They came for their treaties. Yes?" She turned about and headed into the hut. Her voice floated out accompanied by clattering. "And before you start barking your precious seal wore off long ago. I have safeguarded them for you."

"You!" Alistair snapped getting irate again, the realising what she had said. "You protected them?"

"Yes, and why not?" Snapped the old Witch of the Wilds. "Go on then take them back to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realise."

Killean was about to ask what she knew of the blight when Morrigan brought the conversation to an end announcing that it was time for the Wardens to leave.

"Don't so rude deer. They are your guests." Chastised the elder woman.

Conceding Morrigan agreed to see them safely from the swamp and back to Ostagar.

By the time they had scrambled up the narrow path up the bluff and Alistair had called the password to get the narrow wooden gate opened, and they were back inside the Fort proper the sun was dipping below the horizon. The skeletal remains of the fort cast menacing shadows across the landscape that made Killean shiver. They quickly crossed the camp, gone were the brightly coloured tunics, replaced by dull grey armour, even the gaily coloured tents seemed muted in the twilight, the whole camp seemed more aggressive, ready to do battle. Duncan was still stood by the huge signal fire awaiting their return. Before going to him Alistair and Killean went to the kennels and placed the dog into the care of the Kennel Master.

As they approached the elder warden Killean looked at the towering statuary, each was a robed, cowled, female holding aloft a huge Tivintan great-sword. She could appreciate the image of female empowerment.

"So you return from the Wilds." Duncan greeted, quickly getting down to business. "Have you been successful?"

Alistair nodded and the three recruits held their vials of black Darkspawn blood; each seemed to shimmer in the firelight.

"Good." Duncan took the vials from them. "I've had the Circle mages preparing, with the blood you have collected we can begin the Joining immediately."

Alistair stepped up handing the scrolls to Duncan. "There was a woman at the tower, her mother had the scrolls. They were both very…" He paused thinking of the right word. "Odd."

"Were they Wilder folk?" Duncan asked.

"I don't think so." Alistair admitted. "They might be apostates: Mages hiding from the Chantry."

"I know you were once a Templar Alistair." Duncan put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "But Chantry business is none of ours. For now let us focus on the joining."

"So are you going to tell us what this Joining is all about then?" Daveth snapped.

"I will not lie." Duncan said bringing the others in closer and lowering his voice. "We Wardens pay a heavy price for what we are. Fate may decree that you pay that price now rather than later."

"Are, are you saying this could kill us?" Jory asked, the colour draining from his face.

"As could any Darkspawn you face, you would not have been chosen however if I did not think you had a chance to survive." Duncan placed a hand on the big man's shoulder.

"Let's go then." Daveth said. "I'm anxious to see this joining now."

Duncan nodded and led the party toward the crumbling ruin of the fort's temple.

The temple of Ostagar was built out away from the northern edge of the western bluff, a huge stone built shelf supported by granite columns crafted from the living stone of the bluff. The temple its self was crumbling, much like the rest of the fort its outer walls and high domed roof almost completely gone bar skeletal remnants of several window frames. The high, pointed, archway that formed the entrance was still intact as was the pair of Tivintar statues that flanked the entranceway.

The centre of the octagonal space was taken up with a huge brazier that held a fire big enough to rival the signal fire Duncan had waited by.

Off to one side the three Warden Recruits waited with Alistair standing guard over them while Duncan made final perpetrations the other side of the fire.

"The more I hear about this Joining the less I like it." Worried Jory.

"Are you blubbering again?" Snapped Daveth. Killean shot him an evil look that clearly said that the relinquishing of their weapons was the only thing that was keeping him alive.

"Why all the damn tests?" Jory grumbled. "Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition?" Daveth said grinning. "Maybe they're just trying to annoy you?"

"I only know my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they'd warned me?"

Killean shook her head taking a step back from the men as they continued talking. "I swear I'm the bravest one here and I'm a woman." She muttered. Alistair, who had obviously heard her grinned. His expression however sobered quickly as Duncan returned carrying an ornately crafted copper chalice.

"And now we come to the joining." The elder warden said, his voice holding the keedance and rhythm of some ancient liturgy. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." He laid the chalice down on a stone bench, the firelight glinting off its polished surface. "And so it was that the first warden's drank of Darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

Jory's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "We're going to drink the blood of these creatures."

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you." Duncan said sombrely. "This is the source of our power and our victory."

"Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint." Alistair explained stepping up alongside Duncan. "We can sense it within the Darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdeamon."

"Those who survive?" Jory asked his voice shaking.

"Not all those who drink the blood survive and those who do are forever changed." Duncan replied, bowing his head. "This is why the joining is a secret; this is the price we pay."

The elder warden took up the chalice again, his voice taking on the rythem of an age old recital. "We speak only a few words during the joining but these have been handed down from the first."

"Join us brothers and sisters.

Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant.

Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn.

And know that should you perish,

Know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.

And that one day we shall join you."

At Duncan's command Daveth stepped up to the stone bench and was passed the chalice. With a surprising degree of reverence he pressed the vessel to his lips and drank the dark liquid, before handing the chalice back to Duncan. He stood there for a moment as though in contemplation. Then it hit him, an almost physical blow voices in his head calling to him, screaming, roaring through his mind ripping him apart from the inside out. He doubled over in a pain that ripped through his body and tore the breath from his lungs never to return.

"I am sorry Daveth." He didn't even hear Duncan's words as the rouge, the thief from Denerim collapsed to the stone floor of the Ostagar Temple, dead.

Ducan turned toward Jory the cup still cradled in his hands. "Step forward Jory."

The Knight backed away in fear, casting about for a weapon. "But I have a wife, a child. Had I known-." He reached out for his sword which had been placed on one of the benches behind them and came up with Daveth's short sword instead.

"There is no turning back." Duncan whispered advancing menacingly toward the big man.

"No!" Cried Jory bringing the weapon up to the guard. "There is no glory in this!"

Duncan pulled a Dar'Misu, a knife like Killean's from his belt and placing the chalice down he rushed the big knight.

A flick of the knife batted Jory's sword aside and the Elvan knife was plunged into Jory's heart.

"I am sorry." Duncan whispered to the dying knight before letting him slump down to join Daveth on the cold stones where he continued to bleed out.

Duncan turned those impassive eyes toward Killean now. "The joining is not yet complete."

Killean looked about her eyes wide, her mind still reeling from what she had seen, they were both dead, what hope did she have. This was it she was going to die here in the ruined temple in the Maker forsaken wilderness.

That surety, the knowledge that she was going to die gave her a clarity, a sense of purpose that she had not known she could have. If she were going to die then she would meet it head on, eyes up, and with the dignity that she knew would have made her mother proud. But first.

"Was it you that recruited my mother?"

Thunder peeled somewhere off in the distance and a far off lightning strike cast momentary shadows across Duncan and Alistair leaving Killean bathed in momentary light. No one spoke, no one even breathed for a moment.

"Answer me." She snapped at the Wardens. "If you ask this of me the you owe me that much at least."

"Yes." Duncan said Finlay. "She was one of the first after I became commander. She was a good woman. I was there when she died as well. Know this she was a grate woman, never afraid, but always kind. I took you because you are so much like her. You have the potential to be great." He took up the chalice and passed it to her. "Now drink and join us."

Tears rolled down her face as she took up the chalice. For her mother, her father, Nearlos, for the life she had lost, for woman she would become.

Killean, daughter of Cyrion , drank of the Darkspawn taint.

The roar of the Darkspawn filled her mind, a screaming tumble of voices, images it was too much, she felt herself fall to her knees, her hands reaching out of the cold stone of the temple floor, raking her fingers across it trying desperately to hold on to something. She was pulled back under by the tide of voices, high screams merged with deep basso roars, but over it all a whispering, dome deep and dark and malevolent, calling to her. The Dragon.

She saw the beast clearly it was huge, its skin corrupted and rotting like the other Darkspawn, it was that which was whispering to her. She screamed trying to beat her hands against the cold stone floor but could feel nothing, see nothing, was nothing.

There was a splash as a drop of cold water landed on her face, then another, then dozens more. Killean opened her eyes to fnd herself looking up into the rain that was falling on Ostagar. Before she could move Duncan and Alistair appeared in her vision.

"It is finished." Duncan proclaimed. "Welcome."

Killen blinked rainwater from her eyes and began pushing herself up to a sitting position.

"Two more deaths." Alistair said helping her up. "In my joining there was only one but it was horrible. I'm glad at least one of you made it through."

Once she was standing under her own power Duncan approached her. "How do you feel?" He asked.

She shook her head trying to think, she wasn't sure how she felt. What she was supposed to feel, her eyes wandered to where the other two were lying, dead.

"You killed Ser Jory?" She almost whispered.

"Yes, I warned him there was no turning back, and when he went for a blade I was forced to attack him. I am sorry. The Blight demands that well all must make sacrifices." Duncan kept his eyes downcast during his speech. "Thankfully you stand here to let us know they are not all in vain."

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asked changing the subject. "I had terrible dreams after my joining."

Killean pause to think, all she could remember was the rush of voices, of images, and then the dragon. She shivered at the memory, it felt wrong somehow, alien on a level she didn't quite understand. Her musings were cut short by Duncan.

"Such dreams always come when you begin to sense the Darkspawn as we all do. These things can be explained in the months to come." Duncan said moving forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

Killean shook Duncan's had off and turned away from the Wardens. It was all so much, so quickly, her head was reeling from the joining, she could still hear the cry of the Darkspawn, like a knife through her mind. She shook her head trying to clear it but the whispering, the after effects of the Joining remained, and suddenly she could smell the sweet tang of Jory's blood, poor Jory. Tears spilling down her cheeks she fled the Temple seeking the solace of the camps crowded interior.

Ser Cullan shifted his weight making he sodden brush beneath his feet squeak slightly, as beside him one of the other scouts moved silently forward to get a better look. After a moment the man dropped to the ground signalling for the other to do the same.

In the moments that followed Cullan became awair of the sound of his own breathing, it sounded so horrendously loud how could the Darkspawn not hear it? And then he could hear it, it was almost beyond the range of his hearing like a thrumming in the ground. Then he began to make out sound, it started as a rumbling but as it built it turned into the pounding of deep war drums, there must have been hundreds of them , none quite in sync with any of the others, the sound alone was enough to chill a man to his bones, and Cullan was no exception.

Cullan almost jumped out of his skin when the scout next to him tapped him on the shoulder to signal they should get back to camp and report their findings. Nodding his agreement Cullan moved as silently as he could back, away from the Horde, to the rest of the group, three other scouts, two sporting bows like, the other wielding slender duelling blades, both in studded leather armour, and young boy, a runner from the camp who had been brought along as a messenger. Cullan didn't approve of having children in a front line position, but Loghain had pressed and here he was, Jack, nice young kid, dark hair, dark eyes, slim build under a light tunic that did little to protect him against the cold and rain.

One of the archers clapped Cullen on the shoulder and indicated the path back through the gnarled old trees that somehow managed to grow in the part of the wilds where it was slightly dryer than the full-fledged swamp further west. Cullan smiled at the man and started back toward the Ostagar bluff.

That was when they struck. A high pitched, warbling shriek pierced the rain soaked twilight, turning Cullan's blood to ice; then, as though from nowhere a slender blade slashed out decapitating one of the archers. There was a frozen moment as the Shriek stood over the fallen body of the archer, the gangly hunched creature, had the same deathly parlour that all Darkspawn seemed to carry, pulled tight across the vaguely avian skull with long leathery pointed ears and odd mandible like protuberances around the moth. The twin blades still dripping with the archer's blood were strapped to the creature's wrists.

The Shriek broke the moment first, and with a piercing shriek launching itself toward Cullan, the tall knight stumbled backward pulling the crossbow from his belt. Cullan snapped off a quick shot toward the creature but it was rushed and the bolt skimmed across the creatures armour ineffectually, as the Shriek barrelled toward the knight. With a cry the dualist leaped between Cullan and the Darkspawn, sparks rained down as the Silverlight dualist blade intercepted the Darkspawn steel. The human put up a valiant defence crying for the others to make a run for it, but in the end it was futile. The creature backstopped and leaped onto the dualist pinning him to the ground, screaming. With a sharp hiss the creature's avian head snapped up looking for its next victim. It was met by the arrows of the archers already in flight transfixing its head from multiple angles. The creature slumped to the ground dead.

"We need to get out of here now!" Cullan snapped herding the men northward. But it was too late, far too late.

The first archer was killed instantly, a heavy Darkspawn blade bursting from his chest. The Hurlock pulled its blade free from the scout and roared at the group of scouts. Ser Cullan fired his crossbow, the bolt going through the creature's squinted eye. A second Hurlock was just behind the first barrelling from the brush into the small group, with a third and fourth behind it. The first went for Cullan, who snapped off a shot from his crossbow. The bolt buried itself into the creature's chest but didn't bring it down.

Beside the knight the second archer was backing up as he fired into the nearest Darkspawn before dropping his bow and pulling a short sword from his belt.

Cullan caught the blow from the Darkspawn sword on the limbs of his crossbows, the force of the blow shattering the wood and destroying the weapon. He reached for the slender knife at his belt but knew it would be too late, as the hulking creature raised its sword for an overhead strike.

There was a flash of red steel and the Hurlock's head dropped to the ground the creature's body following suite a moment later. The dualist, slick with blood and sporting a manic grin stood behind the dead creature meeting Cullan's eyes for a second before turning to face the oncoming Darkspawn.

The second archer fired off a couple of shots, killing one Darkspawn and pinning another, before they were on him. He franticly blocked attacks from two Hurlock's with the stave of his bow while reaching for his short sword. There was a crunch as the bow stave was hewn in two by a huge battle axe wielded by one of the Hurlocks, he dropped the smashed weapon and rolled under a lateral swipe of the grate axe driving his sword up through the creatures lightly armoured flank.

The dualist fought in a manic rush his weapon painting a web work of steel between him and the oncoming Horde, barely keeping the blades of four Darkspawn off him.

There was a twang from off to one side, followed by a short whistling, and the dualist fell, a Darkspawn arrow transfixing his neck.

Cullan grabbed the fallen Hurlock's sword and swung the heavy, ungainly weapon into one of the squat Genlocks, who was going for the frightened boy. The squat Darkspawn fell, its body almost cleaved in two by Cullan's strike.

The knight turned to the young boy. "Go!" He yelled. "Get back to Camp and warn them!" The other remaining scout caught a blow that would have taken Cullan's head from his shoulders, the force of the impact shattering the roughly hewn weapon. The scout, in a moment of desperation shoved the shattered remnants of the sword into the creature's side.

Cullan passed the other man one of the discarded Darkspawn weapons and moved in close, the pair fighting back to back presenting a united front, against the tide of darkness that looked to overwhelm them. The last thing the boy saw as he fled the small clearing was the huge bulk of a Ogre descening on the pair of valiant fighters.

Killean marched across the camp, ignoring the battle preparations going on about her, her mind lost in her own battle, struggling against the voices in her head, this new duty thrust upon her, something she was borne into? The seeming lack of choice riled against her. And Jory, poor Jory, he had deserved better.

She found herself sat on a narrow ledge, it had originally been a side room, or shoot gallery, but the wall and part of the floor had fallen away over the sheer drop down into the Wilds bellow. She looked out over the waterlogged forest and swampland that comprised the Wilds, thunder clouds rolled over the land moving toward them, and obscuring the sunset.

The wide vista made her feel small, almost insignificant, in some way it that made her feel better, looking out over that view she felt free, her problems, her worries, left behind.

She heard the footsteps shortly before she was the figure in her peripheral vision, as the young man dropped down next to her and started swinging his legs.

"There is one final part of the ritual." He said after a moment of contemplation.

"I don't care." She said without turning to look at him, a single solitary tear rolling down her cheek.

He began to speak again, then stopped, then tried again. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened."

"Don't." She said shaking her head and closing her eyes letting the tears role down her cheeks again.

"Please." He stumbled again. "Just hear me out and I'll leave you be." She didn't say anything so he took it as leave to carry on. "One final part of the ritual: We take a drop of the Darkspawn blood and put it into a pendant." He handed her the pendant, a small beautifully crafted glass bead in the shape of a teardrop, filled with the burgundy Darkspawn blood, and hung from an impossibly fine Silverlight chain.

After a moment she slipped it over her head, watching Alistair keenly, the frustration and anger draining from her.

Both Wardens snapped their heads around at the commotion back the in camp, something was happening over by the gate, the small side one that they had taken into the Wilds, what seemed like an age ago. Killean swung her legs back onto firm ground and headed for the commotion, Alistair trailing behind her.

The young boy couldn't have been more than twelve, his mousy brown hair matted to his head by the rain. His cloths, loose fitting travellers trousers and tunic, were plastered to his scrawny body by the rain and matted blood on his front. The boy stumbled into the camp and almost collapsed into the arms of one of the guards. The boy managed a single word before his eyes fluttered closed.

"Darkspawn."

The thunderhead hit the Fort of Ostagar like a vanguard to the Darkspawn attack, rain lashed down onto the assembled forces and lightning slashed down toward the tower of Ishal, where it rose high above the rest of the fort.

King Kalen stepped out of one of the lower doors, where the dungeons and cellars beneath the keep had been carved into the bedrock of the bluff. Flanked by Duncan and the other Grey Wardens the King of Freledan descended the stone ramp way down into the army.

"The plan will work your Majesty." Duncan said to assure himself as much as the King.

"Of course it will." Kalen assured him. "The Blight ends here!"

The King, surrounded by a phalanx of Grey Wardens descended the stone ramp, slick with rainwater, to the muddy ground of the valley floor, where the human arm stood in rank and file, forming a living wall against the Darkspawn. Chantry Mothers moved up and down the lines of armed men, swinging brass incense burners, and murmuring prayers of protection for the men they were passing.

Kalen stepped up onto a rock promontory that protruded from the base of the bluff and gave him a good view of the valley and the lowlands in front of the bluff where the trees and scrub had been cleared back to provide an adequate killing field. Further back toward the bluffs and through the small gap between them, the wood from the trees had been turned into defensive structures. The soldiers and knights standing in ridged ranks behind and between the first rank of low wooden defensive walls. While in front of them, the conscripts, in lighter leather armour, stood in uneasy ranks. Only the implacable force of the Knights behind them and the scattering of guard captains throughout their ranks kept them from routing almost instantly. Dusk Warriors, a warrior clan from the west who had mastered the Dwarven blood frenzy and trained the grate Mabary war hounds, held the flanks

It began as an almost imperceptible rumbling, something more felt than heard, some of the conscripts became uneasy and the Guard Captains moved up and down the lines trying to retain order of the men.

Duncan and Kalen, stood above the rest of the men on the promontory, were the first to see the glow. Duncan instantly recognised it, from when he had first sighted it further south in the weep wilds weeks ago. Like the whole forest was ablaze. But soon the army was bathed in the red hue of what must have been a thousand torches.

The drums were louder now, mixing together to form a single rumbling sound. Several of the conscripts broke and tried to make a run for it back through the human lines. But were beaten down by the Captains and shoved back into line.

Then the first Darkspawn broke the tree line at a slow march, and was soon joined by another, and another, hundreds of Darkspawn stepped from the cover of the forest and came to a holt, presumably to consolidate their numbers, there were hundreds of them, thousands, with all manner of weapons, in all manner of forms, the shorter Genlocks, mixed in with the more human sized Hurlocks, and towering above them the Heavily armoured forms of the Alphas and Generals, further back in the ranks there were other larger still creatures that didn't even look human, Ogres.

The front ranks of the Horde, mostly comprised of Hurlocks roared at the human defenders slamming their rough weapons against their shields, or breast plates. The Dusk Warriors roared back, this seemed to give enough comfort to the front ranks of human conscripts to stop them routing on the spot.

King Kalen of Fereldan surveyed the Darkspawn army trying to take the measure of the enemy, but it was impossible, there were just so many, and more kept appearing all the time. For the first time he wondered if they would actually be able to win this fight. It was of course too late for doubts. They would win, they had to.

The Darkspawn Alpha surveyed the heavily outnumbered human lines with contempt. This would be an easy victory. He raised his great curved sword to signal the charge and the battle of Ostagar began.

The Darkspawn Horde sprinted toward the human lines, an implacable, unstoppable tide of darkness.

"Archers!" Kalen cried.

At the kings command the ranks of human archers, atop the defences and stone rampways leading to the lower entrances to the fort, let fly into the advancing creatures, the arrows fell like rain cutting down the front of the Darkspawn line, but it did little to slow the advance of the Horde, as they trampled their fallen comrades.

"Hounds!"

At the King's next command nearly a hundred hounds were released by the dusk warriors to charge the advancing Darkspawn, the dogs ripped into the front of the Horde, some talking the creatures low and bringing them down, to be savaged by the war hounds. While others leaped up grabbing onto the Darkspawn by the head and neck to drag them down. But inevitably they were slain, or just trampled beneath the advancing enemy.

Duncan watched as their opening volleys were brushed aside by this tide of evil that threatened to overwhelm the land. How could they beat something this big this, inevitable, it was like trying to fight the ocean.

"For Fereldan!" The King screamed. Signalling the charge, the conscripts were thrown forward, much like the hounds had been to try and arrest the momentum and cohesion of the Darkspawn charge, lest it overrun the Freledan lines completely.

As if on the same cue huge trebuchets and ballists, still within the forest, send their first volley toward the walls of Ostagar, shattering the stone ramparts and raining rubble down on the entrenched defenders. Ballistas, the huge siege crossbows, mounted on the walls of the keep, and archers positioned along the ruined walls returned fire, raining death down onto the Horde.

Killean and Alistair hunkered down against the onslaught of the Darkspawn siege engines. They were at the western end of the bridge beneath archway where Killean had first met King Kalen what seemed like an age ago, the arch was flanked by the classic Tivintan statues, similar to those around Duncan's fire. Ahead of them, clusters of archers were interspersed between the ballast teams who were working to load the huge bolts into the weapons.

As the pair watched a ballista round arched up from behind the Darkspawn lines, slamming into the top of the tower of Ishal, shattering the upper ornate segment.

It was the first battle Killean had been in, she had never expected it to be so loud. The clash of metal, sword on shield, the deeper crunching impacts of sword on bone, heavy booming thuds of impact as ballista rounds crashed down to earth amidst the battling armies, or slammed into masonry, the cries of embattled men, and over it all the deep rumbling of the Darkspawn drums.

"We need to get to the eastern camp where the tower is." Alistair called over the sounds of battle.

Killean nodded, the stretch of low walled walkway, seemed so much longer than when Killean had crossed it with Duncan when she first arrived.

As the stepped out of the shelter of the archway onto the bridge proper a ballista impact shook the stones of the bridge beneath their feet. Killean was terrified as they made their way over to where the first knot of archers was shearing a ground quiver stacked full of arrows, the men were firing the recurved bows down into the crowd of Darkspawn horde that was dashed itself against the Fereldan lines. Darkspawn arrows, fired up from the Horde pinged off the masonry bellow them.

Just beyond the archers was the first ballista, it took two men to load the grate bolt into the device once it was cocked. Killean was less than a dozen paces away, Alistair right behind her when a flaming bolt from one of the Darkspawn siege engines hit the wall just below the ballista emplacement.

There was a wash of heat and it was as though Killean was being swatted by a huge hand, as the shockwave lifted the Wardens from their feet and slammed them back against the stonework of the bridge, when Killean looked up the weapon emplacement was gone, replaced by a jagged rent in the side of the bridge, the five Ballista operators all gone, dead. Around Killean the archers were pulling themselves to their feet as more of the huge bolts slammed into the forte around them. Alistair reached down helping the young Warden to her feet and skirting the destroyed emplacement they carried on across the bridge past more archers and another ballista emplacement.

"Get down!" Alistair cried pulling Killean roughly to her knees and bringing his shield up to protect them as another ballista bolt hit the knot of archers sending them tumbling across the grey block work of the bridge's surface, several were thrown clean over the low wall to plunge to their deaths in the valley hundreds of feet below. One of the more lucky ones managed to grab onto the low wall as he went over the edge.

Killean, staying the lee of the other Warden as rubble and Darkspawn arrows rained down around them and grabbed a hold of the archer's wrist pulling him back onto the bridge.

"My thanks lady." He said, breathing hard, pausing for a moment before gathering himself and returning to his post.

Killean grabbed the quiver of arrows from one of the fallen archers and quickly stuffed the arrows into her own quiver before following Alistair eastward across the wind swept bridge toward the skeletal remains of the eastern fortifications and the looming presences of the tower. Alistair remained on Killean's right using his shield to cover them from Darkspawn arrows and fragments of masonry knocked loose by Ballista impacts. Several times they nearly fell, slipping on patches of ice that was starting to form across the ornate block work that comprised the bridge's upper surface.

After what seemed like an age the pair passed under the crumbling archway that lead into the eastern fortifications. Killean almost collapsed in relief and exhaustion as they moved into the shelter of the crumbling Tivintan walls that went someway to blocking out the driving rain, howling wind, and the sounds of frantic battle bellow. Thunder still bellowed overhead as lightning forked down toward the embattled Fereldans and the Fort they so hoped to defend.

Alistair allowed the Elf a moment to gather herself, not least to give him a brief rest bite after their treacherous journey across the bridge. As they stood there, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, a pair of Mages sprinted past and set to using fire magic and buckets of sand to drive the ice from the top of the wall and provide footing for the archers and ballista operators.

After their moment's rest Alistair clapped Killean on the arm and gestured for her move onward, they both knew they had precious little time to reach the tower if the plan was to succeed, Kalen's forces bellow the bridge could only hope to hold out so long.

The pair headed down the main highway, a track that led from the main gates, in the eastern wall across the bridge and into the western fortifications. About half way to the far wall and the gates was a ramp way that led up into the forte proper; it was as the pair reached this ramp that two guardsmen, stumbled down the ramp, both wearing the reinforced leather armour that typified the city guard and wielding short sword and round huntsman shields, much smaller than Alistair's kite shield.

"Oh Maker, they're everywhere!" Gasped the first one; the broken end of an arrow protruding from his left shoulder, the arm bellow soaked in blood and hanging limply.

"You!" The other one, wearing the helm of a guard captain and in seemingly better shape, snapped at them. "You're Grey Wardens aren't you? The tower, it's been taken."

"What are you talking about man?" Alistair snapped at the men squinting against the rain. "Taken how?"

Both guards looked nervously back up the ramp way. "The Darkspawn came up through the lower chambers, they're everywhere. Most of our men are dead." The captain explained.

"Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves." Alistair proclaimed.

The pair of guards nodded and fell in around the two wardens, both looked ashen at the prospect of having to go back in there, even with the Wardens, but they would do it anyway.

The Darkspawn slowed as they started to hack their way through the Fereldan conscripts until they hit the front line of soldiers, mean wearing heavy plate mail, holding heavy square cut shields as an implacable wall against the darkness.

The Darkspawn horde dashed itself against the Fereldan heavy soldiers, their implacable shields and brutal short swords. Men from the ranks behind piled in with spears and pikes while the Dusk Warriors swept along the lines hacking their way through pockets of Darkspawn that looked to overwhelm the Fereldan defensive line. Finally from the back mages and archers plied ranged attacks into the oncoming forces, while the phalanx of Grey Wardens moved with the King as he descended from his perch down into the maelstrom bellow.

Taron could see all this from his position atop a small rise that led to one of the Fort's lower entrances, surrounded by other mages and archers. Young boys ran back and forth with bundles keeping the archers stocked up on arrows. The bald mage saw a knot of Darkspawn massing around one of the taller Alphas for a more cohesive rush. He raised his staff and with a word of power and a rush of magic that left him light headed sent a fireball streaking toward the group. The ball of superheated gasses expanded in a bloom of fire that engulfed the mass of Darkspawn, leaving only charred remains, other Darkspawn around the group were thrown back by the force of the blast, some were set on fire from the heat of the blast and ran franticly through the Darkspawn lines causing confusion and lessening the pressure against the Front ranks of the Fereldan force, before they buckled completely under the onslaught.

Fereldans were constantly falling, being killed by Darkspawn arrows or blades, or simply being pulled from the lines and mobbed. Soldiers from the rear lines were moving forward to fill in the gaps but their lines were starting to thin, and the pressure of the Darkspawn horde was causing the line to buckle in places. He could see the Dusk Warriors and the Wardens running back and forth reinforcing the lines and trying to keep them from falling into utter chaos.

Taron sent another fireball into Darkspawn lines scouring the flesh from a Ogre that lumbered toward the entrenched Fereldan forces. The beast crashed to the earth flailing and crushing yet more of the creatures belo its bulk. The effort of so doing so much magic in such a short space of time was making Taron light headed, his hand unconsciously reached for the small flask at his belt, realising what he was doing he stopped himself, he would not go back to that, he had worked so hard to overcome the Lyrium addiction acquired in his youth. He stepped back from the front of the rise leaning heavily on his staff his head bowed eyes closed as he waited for the world to stop spinning.

An alarmed cry brought his attention back to the battle, a huge horned Ogre, a particularly large member of the breed, with huge metal plates chained about its body. Both the Dusk Warriors and the Wardens were heading toward it but they weren't going to get there in time to make a difference. Archers, both from Toran's position and others were focusing their fire on the beast, but most bounced ineffectually off the creature's armoured bulk and those that did strike were regarded by the beast as little more than insect bites, as the creature lumbered toward the Fereldan lines crushing any Darkspawn that were not quick enough to get out of its way beneath its clawed feet.

The creature hit the Fereldan lines like a wrecking ball a sweep of its clawed hand sent several of the knights flying as it snatched up one of the knight captains in its huge hand, Taron could almost hear the screeching of rending metal as the Knight's armour was crushed beneath the Ogre's immense grip.

Taron reached out for power, trying to cast a fireball toward the creature and the world went white.

Killean and Alistair, the tower guards flanking them, came up the ramp way and through the skeletal remains one of the buildings, dispatching a group of Genlocks on the way. The roofless building gave way to a small alleyway that led into a large courtyard that surrounded the base of the tower. Alistair held up a hand gesturing for them to stop, Killean came up behind him and shot the young man a questioning look.

"Darkspawn." He mouthed. "We'll charge them, draw their attention." The gestured to the guard captain. "Give you two an opening at their flanks." Killean and the other guard, who had exchanged his sword for a crossbow, nodded.

Alistair adjusted his shield and tightened his grip on his sword as he counted down silently. When he reached zero he and the guard captain rushed around the corner, shields up and ready.

The courtyard was a split level affair, surrounded on all sides by crumbling walls. The skeletal remnants of archways gave the impression that at one time it might have been roofed. The lower level of the courtyard was now a grassy surface interspersed with crumbling masonry, the northern section of the court yard, up a short flight of step, was a paved area around the base of the Tower of Ishal, a wooden platform protruded from the upper level, Killean remembered one of the Chantry Mothers preaching from there when she had first arrived.

Alistair's charge was met by a group of Hurlocks, wielding short stubby swords, he and the guard captain slammed into them the force of their attack nocking the lead two Darkspawn from their feet. Killean and the crossbow man sprinting out into the cover of a fallen colonnade, an arrow already on her bowstring. Darkspawn arrows pinged off the rubble around her from a pair of Hurlocks firing down from the wooden platform. Popped up from behind the rubble and fired, her arrow caught the creature full on in the face as the Hurlock reached full draw; the arrow pinged off wildly catching one of the ones attacking Alistair in the back of the head, the Hurlock dropped bonelessly to the ground. Killean tried to line up the other archer but was force back into cover by the barrage of arrows from the other one.

Alistair pressed forward his shield held high to protect him from arrows from the Darkspawn, the Hurlocks who had rushed to meet him were dead, a pair of Genlocks charged down the ramp to meet them. The Warden and the guard captain let out cries of their own and charged to meet them, Alistair felt arrows impacting on the surface of his shield as he ran. The creature swung its gnarled sword with both hands in a lateral swipe meant to take the Warden's legs out from underneath him. Alistair managed to arrest his charge in time to avoid it and slammed his shield down onto the Genlock's arms breaking them, followed up by a quick slash into the creature's neck that went some way to decapitating it, he glanced over to see the guard captain had dispatched his own with a thrust to the chest. There was a snap and a whistling sound from behind him, and Alistair saw the final archer topple from the platform a crossbow bolt protruding from his chest.

As the last of the Darkspawn fell Killean jumped up from behind the rubble she had been using for cover, still high from the adrenaline of the fight she rushed forward to where Alistair was, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. That was when the Alpha leaped from the wooden platform its great war axe slamming down almost splitting the guard captain in half.

Both Alistair and Killean stood in shocked awe, unable to move. The Alpha roared and ripped his axe free from the guard in a wash of blood, Killean stumbled back in panic, franticly trying to knock another arrow. Alistair brought his shield up and moved back behind it. There was a snap and whistle and a crossbow bold bounced off the creature's heavy plate armour, the Alpha whipped its head around and roared at the guard bringing its heavy axe to bear.

Killean taking quick sharp breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating, drew back her own bow and fired, the badly aimed arrow catching the heavily armed Darkspawn on the side of the head, it swung back toward the Wardens, its axe catching Alistair by the shield and sending him tumbling into a crumbling column. Killean fired another arrow but the shot was rushed and bounced harmlessly off the creature's breastplate leaving a small dent.

The creature ignored another ineffectual shot from the guard and charged Killean swinging its axe in a broad arc. Killean jumped back barely avoiding the axe, as she tried to take another step back her foot caught on a half-buried lump of masonry and she fell backward. The young Warden landed heavily, the shock of impact sending pins and needles up her arms and legs. She tried to roll back onto her feet but found her limbs sluggish and unresponsive; she shook her head desperately trying not to go into a blind panic, she was going to die, this huge, horrible creature was going to kill her, and worse still the beacon would stay dark and Loghain would not know when to charge, and everyone would die, all of Fereldan would be destroyed and it was all her fault, all because she could not just move.

"Stay down!" Killean's head snapped toward the voice, it was one of the Mages, white, cleanly carved, wooden staff above his head and cried a word of power. The Elf realised what he was doing as the bolt of lightning flashed from the upraised weapon toward the Darkspawn Alpha. It bucked as lightning crackled over its armoured body and slumped to the ground smoke drifting up from its partially melted armour. The creature reached out and pulled its dropped axe from the rain soaked grass its red glowing eyes focused on the Mage.

Killean finding her limbs more responsive at last and grabbed up her bow she reached for an arrow in her quiver and knocking it faced down over four hundred pounds of charging armoured monster, she could peripherally hear Alistair calling to her and rushing toward the monster sword held high. She drew the bow back to her face and took a beat to sight on the creatures face. The arrow whipped through the rain soaked air toward the Alpha shattered raindrops spraying wildly in its wake. It struck the helmet in the partially melted eye socket slamming through the small slit and into the creature's eye. Bellowing the Alpha went down skidding across the wet grass toward the young Elf. The creature tried to rise again but Alistair was on its back thrusting his sword down through the small gap between the Alpha's helmet and the top of the back plate, severing the creature's spine.

The huge Ogre had shattered the centre of the Fereldan line; it was dead now, taken down by a particularly accurate ballista shot, but that was a moot point now the defensive lines were crumbling and there was nothing they could do about it.

Duncan lead the wardens, backed by a group of royal knights, in a counter push trying keep the Darkspawn off the Fereldan lines to give them enough time to regain some semblance of cohesion. His dual swords high he charged as the head of the wedge of armed and armoured men, his own battle cry was lost the maelstrom of combat around him.

The wedge of knights loosened out as they hit the knot of Darkspawn slamming through the early ranks, Duncan lashing out to the right and left with his dual blades cutting own Darkspawn with each blow, behind him the other wardens and knights hacked their way through the Darkspawn. Duncan was caught up in the rush of battle and didn't realise how far into the horde they had gotten until the Alpha rushed them.

The huge Darkspawn and its cadre of Genlocks slammed into the flank of the Warden force, three wardens and nearly half a dozen Knights were killed. Duncan spun lashing out with his swords killing a couple of the Genlocks but the Alpha was too far away for him to strike, as it slashed with its huge long sword cutting down a pair of knights. A pair of Wardens jumped toward the alpha swords up striking a sundering blow across the creature's arms causing it to drop its weapon. A swipe of the Alpha's arm knocked on of the Wardens flying into the Horde where he was torn to pieces, another Warden, an Arcane Warrior, brought his sword about, the blade sheathed in flame and being used as a focus for the warrior mage's magic. The blade flashed white hot as it swung down cleaving half the creature' head away.

Duncan called for them to fall back and began trying to get the remains of his forces back to the relative safety of the Fereldan lines. As they moved he looked up to the top of the tower, it was still dark. He was worried about the young Wardens they should have made it to the top of the tower and lit the beacon by now. They would have to be soon or they would be overrun before Loghain could get his men into position.

"Your majesty, you have to come with us?" The guard said pulling up the faceplate on his helmet to meet the Kings eyes. He was trying to get the king up onto one of the low rises that the archers and mages had been using, it was a more defendable position now the front lines were falling into disarray and what was supposed to have been a holding action had turned into a free for all melee, which was no place for the King.

"No." Kalen snapped. "We can still hold." He turned from the knight. "To me Fereldan!"

Each floor of the tower was seemingly laid out in the same fashion, a rank of outer rooms that were in varying states of destruction, separated from a central, circular room by a fairly narrow corridor.

Killean, Alistair, the guard and the mage had managed to fight their way up to the tower's third floor by now, their weapons were dripping with black Darkspawn blood. The toughest fight had been on the first floor where a group of Darkspawn archers had set up a burning barricade in an attempt to stop their progress; it had worked well leaving Killean and the guard the tough job of trying to hit their archers through the heat haze coming off the blazing barricade. That was until the mage sent out a blast of super chilled air, flash freezing a section of the barricade and allowing Alistair and the others charged over cutting down the Genlocks.

The second floor was navigated with little incident as only a pair of particularly unobservant Genlocks were on patrol in the central chamber, a pair of arrows from Killean's bow left them cold and dead on the floor.

It was the third floor where the Darkspawn in the tower had set their main ambush, the two Wardens and their two companions were moving swiftly, all aware that the longer they took to reach the beacon the less likely it would be with time enough to do any good. They ducked from the central room into the curving corridor that circled between the central chamber and the outer rooms. It was in these outer rooms that the Darkspawn hid.

Alistair felt an odd, yet familiar chill run down his spine and snapped his hand up for the group to halt, perhaps if he'd been older, more experienced, he would have picked it up sooner, been able to do something, but fate decreed that was not be so.

Even as his hand snapped up and Killean and the Mage behind him skidded to a stop, the guard who was half a step ahead of the Wardens brought his foot down on the length of impossibly fine Silverlight cable. There was an explosion of flame that threw both guard and Warden over onto their backs, Alistair's splintmail protected him from the blast better than the guard's leather and the man screamed hands batting at the flames that ate away at his arms and face doing little but fan the fire. Alistair rushed to the man and bundled on top of him smothering the flames, as he did a Darkspawn arrow whistled over his head.

Killean's head was still ringing from the blast when the Darkspawn rushed out of the room behind them forming into surprisingly effective lines, five Genlocks wearing rather piecemeal armour and wielding short swords and small round wooden shields formed something akin to a shield wall while behind them two Hurlock arhcers took up position firing over the heads of the smaller creatures. Killean her head spinning stumbled to one side reaching out for the support of the wall avoiding, more by accident that design, one of the archers shots. She shook her head trying to clear it, to get the ringing in her ears to stop reaching, more on instinct, for an arrow, she could see the mage on hands and knees fumbling for his staff and behind them Alistair on top of the burning tower guard. She was the only one in position to make a difference; she was the only one who could save them. Her first shot glanced harmlessly off one of the Genlock shields. She barely dodged the return fire from one of the Hurlocks and heard a cry, from behind her, turning to see Alistair pulling an arrow from his lower leg.

Alistair saw the Hurlock level its bow on the young Elf, she hadn't seen it, would not be able to see it in time, not be able to get out the way, she was going to die. No! He fought down the panic and snatched the guard's crossbow from where it had fallen singed and battered to the floor. He sighted and fired.

The crossbow bold shattered the Genlock's wooden buckler and kept going, slamming into the squat creature's chest sending it stumbling back into the larger Darkspawn behind it. The Hurlock put off its shot sent that arrow wide.

Killean spun back to the Darkspawn line As Alistair took up his sword in both hands and charged the Darkspawn lines and, holding her bow horizontal set a pair of arrows to her string. She had only ever seen this trick done, and then only once when she had snuck out of the Alienage to watch a knight tournament, and had been suitably impressed. She pulled back and sighted between the pair of Hurlocks loosing just as Alistair rushed past her screaming.

The arrows hit, one transfixing the Darkspawn's neck, the other going through the second creature's eye, a beat later Alistair hit the Darkspawn line hacking down three of the Genlocks with a single stroke. The final squat monster was dispatched by a bold of energy from the Mage.

After the fight they went to check on the tower guard but found him dead, Alistair in a particularly sombre moment, said a prayer over him while the mage bound his leg applying a foul smelling poultice to the wound.

"That was some shot you pulled there." Alstair looked clapped a hand on her shoulder grinning.

She smiled quietly knowing it was reckless and she shouldn't have tired it, if it hadn't worked then the young cocky warden would be dead now.

Rain lashed down on the small free holding, or at least what had once been a free holding. The building was a skeleton of its former self the roof gone the walls crumbling and now packed with heavy troop under Loghain's command.

Wynne huddeled deeper in her robes against the rain as she walked past rank after rank of heavily armed men, each with some heavy weapon strapped to his back. She looked from the army to where the Tyrne was stood cape flapping in the wind looking out over the fight in the valley below, to the tower that rose up, implacable, from the ruins of Ostagar its pinnacle still dark. As the mage watched a young raven haired woman wearing Steel commanders platemail walked up and exchanged words with him. As she walked back past Wynne Ser Cauthrien, the woman, was muttering.

"What is it deer?" Wynne asked her voice soft and soothing.

"Nothing mage." The commander snapped, then shook her head. "Sorry ma-am."

"Don't worry." Wynne placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"I'm just worried, the Kings forces were never equipped for a sustained attack, we need to move in soon or they'll be over run."

"But the Tyrne won't move?" Wynne asked.

"No." Cauthrien shook her head again. "His orders were to wait for the beacon, so that is what he will do."

"I'm sure Kalen knows what he's doing, and won't wait too long." Wynne reassured the young knight commander as they walked back to the shelter of the free hold's walls.

"I hope your right." Cauthrien said. "I realy do."

Killean was breathing hard by the time they reached the top of the tightly wound spiral staircase. The three of them paused for a moment to gather themselves before the, heavy, iron bound door, that led into the top floor of the tower, a colonnaded room open to the night with the stack of wood for the beacon stacked off to one side.

The three of them burst into the room, Alistair, his shield held high, went first and strait, his sword held high. Behind him Killean and the mage broke to the left and right Killean had an arrow on her bow, the string half pulled while the mage gathered lighting around his outstretched hand.

The Ogre, a big burly ape like beast with long heavy hors curling up from its head, snatched a huge lump of shattered masonry from the floor and hurled it at the trio.

Killean, letting the arrow ping off across the floor threw herself to one side as the huge lump of carved granite flew toward them. She landed hard on the cold wet stone floor wrenching her arm awkwardly as fragments of rock peppered her back. She tried to push herself up pain lanced down her right arm. There was a defining roar that shook the stones of the tower as the creature charged toward them.

Alistair pushed himself up, the heavy kite shield encumbering him somewhat as the creature roared. He looked up to see the huge beast bearing down on them. The others were still struggling to their feet; it was all down to him, if he didn't act now they would all be killed, and without them the beacon would not be lit and Kalen and Duncan, and all the other Wardens would be killed. Pushing himself forward toward the beast he drew his sword and, with a roar of his own, he charged the beast.

Killean watched as Alistair rushed to meet the charge of the Ogre, his sword reflecting a nearby lightning strike. The fool was going to get himself killed; he was going to get himself killed saving her. She pushed herself up grabbing her bow from the floor and pressed another arrow to the string. Pain, white hot and intense lanced up her arm as she tried to pull the bow back, almost intense enough to drive her to her knees again, the bow tumbled uselessly from her numbed fingers

The Ogre grew larger and large until it filled Alistair's vision, he could see human blood dripping from its viciously curved, and razor sharp horns. Almost before he could fully take in the enormity of the creature before its clawed hand swiped toward him, he barely managed to avoid decapitation almost stumbling under the massive arm. He managed to stay on his feet dragging his sword through the creature's calf as he passed its right hand side, his left arm ringing from where the Ogre's hand has clipped the top of his shield; better that than his head he thought.

The Ogre tumbled skidding across the floor and finally digging its claws into the wet stone of the tower floor for traction as it pursued the stunned Warden. Alistair turned trying to bring his shield up, but his arm would not cooperate, he slipped the metal shield from his arm and took his sword in both hands, bracing himself against the Ogre's charge, it charged toward him bringing its fists up to smash the impetus creature. It was about to bring its hands crashing down and end the life of the little, insignificant, thing before it. It tried to bring its hands down but they would not move, it could not move any part of its body, it roared in frustration trying to jerk free of the enchantment that kept it from its prey.

"Move!" The mage snapped through clenched teeth. "I can't hold it for long."

Killean looked from the pale sweating mage to the Ogre that was surrounded by motes of sliver blue flame. She gritted her teeth in frustration knowing that without her bow there was nothing she could do. She franticly cast about for a dropped weapon, something, anything she could use to tackle the Ogre. Her eyes fell on a ballista, one of the outsized crossbow-like siege engines, that was fortuitously turned to face inward, loaded and coked; perhaps by the guards who had been defending the room.

She rushed over meaning to fire the weapon's oversized bot toward the beast and yanked on the release leaver. Nothing happened, the leaver was stuck fast. There was a cry and her head snapped around to see the mage slump to the floor his energy spent holding the beast in place for so long. The creature was still in the Ballista's sights if only she could get the blighted thing to fire. The Ogre turned toward her and she tugged futilely against the release leaver. With a cry Alistair leaped toward the beast, burying his sword in its side. The creature roared in pain turning toward the other Warden; Alistair wasn't quick enough and the creature caught him with a backhand swipe and went sailing through the air to impact on the wall with a sickening crunch; from there he slid boneless to the floor. The Ogre turned back toward the Elf, roared and charged again.

They're dead, they're all dead. The liturgy ran through her head as tears started rolling down her cheeks, even in the face of the Ogre she struggled to tear her gaze away from the broken form of Alistair. With a cry of frustration and grief she threw her whole bodyweight against the leaver and finally it gave, she almost fell as it snapped downward.

The retort of the ballista limbs snapping back was almost deafening from so close. The bolt wasn't one of the exploding ones being used by the defenders on the wall, the simple barbed end exploded from the creature's back in a wash of thick black ichor, and the Ogre fell to the ground dead, its momentum causing it to tumble a couple of times before coming to rest right in front of her.

"Take that you blighted bastard!" she snapped kicking it in the head, then she was alone in the tower.

"And she even makes the sarcastic quip." Alistair chucked then grimaced clutching his side. With an almost gleeful joy she rushed over and helped him up. "Don't worry about me." He said pushing away from her to support himself against the wall, still in obvious pain. "Get the beacon lit."

Leaving him she pulled her knife from her belt using it to light the square stacked, oil soaked wood.

Duncan and Frick, a squat Dwarf in heavy armour wielding a huge, even for a human, hammer, were the only Wardens left, fighting franticly back to back trying to stay with the king in the maelstrom of combat.

They would have been overrun by now had it not been for Kalen. He had organised a counter charge leading what was left of the Fereldan line in a hammer blow attack into the Horde, it gave them breathing room and a fighting chance as they fought slowly moving back to the shattered defences beneath the bridge. Both Wardens sensed the approach of the Orge before it came out of the haze toward them, it didn't give Frick enough time as he was crushed underfoot. Duncan tried to engage the beast before it reached the King but was swiped aside. He had a brilliant aerial view of the embattled troops slogging through the mud before he thumped against the base of the bluff, jagged rocks biting into his back.

At the small freehold Loghain looked over the valley imagining what a bloodbath it must be down there. As he watched the pyre at the top of the tower burst into flames.

Ser Cauthrien stepped up beside him saluting, she had seen the tower and obviously expected him to sound the charge.

"Sound…" He said turning toward the yonng Knight Captain. "The retreat."

Cauthrien was shocked, at first she wondered if she had heard right, then she was appalled, how could he abandon the king, he and Maric had been so close, would he realy abandon Calen now.

"But what about the King…" She began not understanding.

" Do as I command!" The Tyrne snapped grabbing her roughly by the shoulder and pushing her toward the ranks of assembled men.

Picking herself up she approached the knights, had she seen self-recrimination in his eye, as the Tyrne had pushed her away. Paying the thought no heed she ordered the men to fall out.

"What's going on child?" Cauthrien spun to see the mage, the one who had spoken to her before, Wynne, with a confused expression on her face.

"The Tyrne has ordered our withdrawal." She said simply turning away not wanting to see the look of horror, or contempt on the elderly mage's face.

Wynne watched as hundreds of armoured men, turned and left, others led carts, while more of the camp followers began hastily packing up as word spread. She could not do it, she would not stand idly by while Fereldan fell to the blight because of some short sighted political manoeuvring by petulant children. She reached out across the fade trying to find one of the mages involved in the battle bellow, finally her mind touched another.

Taron's head was bowed as he tried to regain his strength when the voice came to him; another mage was reaching out to him across the Fade, he recognised it and then the image appeared to accompany it, Wynne surrounded by white light that made her look ethereal.

"Loghain." She said tension pervading her voice and demeanour. "He has retired the field. You have to get the King out of there."

"I understand." Taron said nodding closing his eyes. He knew what he had to do, what he would need to do to accomplish it. He reached for the flask on his belt and, as the connection faded leaving the world slightly darker, held it up in front of him, the liquid held in an ornate bulbous glass vial, was clear blue and seemed suffused with its own luminescence. He touched the flask to his lips and downed the whole flask in a single drought.

The Lyrium took only seconds to kick in and he was flying, power coursed through his veins, he could do anything, take on anything, and he would win, how could he not?

He jumped from the barricade sweeping his staff in a quick ark the white hot flames that surrounded it cut a swathe through the Darkspawn around him. He saw a group of Dusk warriors nearby and called out to them, explaining what had happened and that they needed to get to the King. They formed up around him and they started cutting their way through the Horde, trying to reach the King. He launched a fireball vaporising a group of Genlocks before they reached them and sprinted forward to were the King was.

They arrived at the same time as the Ogre, the creature grabbed the King before he could turn to engage the beast and held the young King up to its face, it roared squeezing the King within his Silverlight armour. Taron could hear the metal squealing from where he was, he reached out to his power but there was nothing he could do without endangering the King. They continued running, Taron cutting down Darkspawn to the right and left as they passed.

The Ogre threw the lifeless, crushed body to one side sending the mage and group of Dusk Warriors tumbling.

Duncan was finding it hard to breathe and every time he moved pains shot along his arms and back. He took up his swords and charged the Ogre, the one that had killed Kalen, he leaped at it burying his swords into its lower chest and holding on. The blades slipped through the tainted flesh before holding. He pulled one out and used it to clamber hand over hand up the creature until he thrust his sword into the monster's neck twisting it brutally he brought the creature thundering down to the earth with the Warden still on top.

Duncan rolled off the Ogre his energy spent, around him Fereldans were dying, but it was such an effort to even keep his eyes open. As a group of Huurlocks formed up around an Alpha and charged. He rolled onto his back and saw that the beacon was lit, smoke rising lazily from the top of the Tower or Ishal, they had made it, but then were was Loghain and his men?

After the beacon was lit Killean went back to Alistair who was checking on the mage.

"He's still alive." Alistair assured her, his voice still strained.

Both their heads snapped up as the door exploded inward and a group of Darkspawn thundered in, archers forming up around one of the heavily armed Alphas. Before either Warden could react the Darkspawn fired. Killean felt the first arrow slam into her thigh and she dropped screaming in pain, a second arrow hit her in the chest bringing another gasp from her, she belatedly reached for the knife but another arrow hit her in the shoulder spinning her around. She dropped to the floor gasping for breath her mind reeling as she tried to rise but found she didn't have the strength.

There is a certain surety that comes with the knowledge that you are going to die. Killean had heard people say this before but had never really understood until now, not even at the joining when she had felt calm come over her. This was different somehow, she was dying there was too much blood seeping onto the ground beneath her for it not to be so. She only hoped the plan had worked, and the Tyrne's men were cutting their way through the Darkspawn lines.

Her vision was starting to fade now the colour leaching from the world. She felt a rushing of wind across her face and as she looked up she could have sworn she saw a Dragon swoop into the tower, not the blighted Evil Dragon that she had, had vision of during her joining but the graceful lean from of a high dragon. The young elf put the whole thing down to blood loss and then with a final gasp let go of consciousness. And it was there at the top of the Tower of Ishal, at Ostagar, in the light of the beacon that hope failed.


End file.
